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THE AIR PIRATE 


BY 

RANGER GULL 



NEW YORK 

HARCOURT, BRACE AND HOWE 
1920 































*13 




V $ 1 * t 
•.i'd 


. * 














































Hkbicatton 


TO PERCY BURTON, Esq. 

In memory of a certain celebrated walk 
from Great Holland to Frinton-on-Sea, 
and the salmon we met at the end of it. 
With all good wishes from the Author. 

























CONTENTS 


PAGE 


CHAPTER 

I. — The Commissioner of Air Police for 
Great Britain rides to Plymouth 
in Good Company 

II. — Fate of the Transatlantic Air-Liner 

“Albatros” 24 

III. — “ Cold-blooded Piracy in the High 

Air” » . . . 38 

IV. — The Newspapers in Full Cry . . 54 

V. — The Familiar Spirit of Mr. van Adams 66 

VI. — Mr. Danjuro, Thinking Machine, ex- 
plains Himself 81 

VII. — The curious Fight in the Restaurant . 96 

VIII. — The Hunting Instinct is stimulated 

by a Procession 108 

IX. — The Man with the Wicked Face . 124 

X. — Sir John Custance comes upon the 

House of Helzephron .... 134 

XI. — “The Air Wolves are hunting 

to-night!” 146 

XII. — The Killing of Michael Feddon . 160 

XIII. — The Secret that puzzled two Conti- 

. 171 


NENTS 


v 


vi CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XIV. — The Air Pirate at Last . . . . 182 

XV. — Led out to die 197 

XVI. — The Hounds from Tibet and Mr. 

Vargus; with a Discovery on 

BOARD THE PlRATE ...... 210 

XVII. — The Moment of Triumph .... 230 

XVIII. — The Golden Dream 247 

XIX. — Last Flight of the Pirate Airship . 260 

Epilogue 270 


THE AIR PIRATE 





* 








» 







THE AIR PIRATE 


CHAPTER I 

THE COMMISSIONER OF AIR POLICE FOR GREAT BRITAIN 
RIDES TO PLYMOUTH IN GOOD COMPANY 

N EARLY two years ago a leading London daily 
newspaper said: ‘‘The Government have as- 
sured us that all danger from present and future air 
piracies is now over, and that the recent events which 
so startled and horrified both this country and the 
United States of America can never recur. For our 
own part we accept that assurance, and we do not 
think that the Commissioner of Air Police for the 
British Government will be caught napping again. 

“In saying this we do not in the least mean to imply 
that Sir John Custance could either have foreseen or 
prevented the astounding mid-Atlantic tragedies. Sir 
John, though barely thirty years of age, is an official 
in every way worthy of his high position, an organizer 
of exceptional ability and a pilot of practical experi- 
ence. Press and public are perfectly well aware that 
it is owing to his personal exertions that our magnifi- 
9 


10 


THE AIR PIRATE 


cent Transatlantic air-liners are no longer stricken 
down by the Night Terror of the immediate past. And 
in saying this much, we have both a suggestion and a 
request to make. 

“The inner history of the piracies is only fully 
known to one man. It is a story, we understand, that 
puts the imagination of the boldest writer of fiction 
to shame. Such parts of it as have been made public 
hint at a story of absorbing interest behind. The bad 
old days of censorship and secrecy have vanished with 
the occasions that made them necessary. We suggest 
that a full and detailed ‘story’ of the first — and we 
trust the last — Air Pirate should be written, and given 
to the world. And we call upon that most popular 
public man, Sir John Custance, to do this for us. He 
alone knows everything.” 

At the time that it appeared I read the above to 
Charles Thumbwood, my little valet, as I finished 
breakfast, in my Half Moon Street chambers. 

“Not quite correct, Charles. You know almost as 
much about it as I do. To say nothing of a certain 
friend . . ” 

“I wouldn’t say that, Sir John,” said Charles, brush- 
ing my light overcoat. “Though I rode part of the 
course alongside of you; to say nothing of Mr. Dan- 
juro.” Thumbwood was a jockey before I took him 
into my service. “Are you going to write it all down. 
Sir John?” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


11 


“That depends on several things, and on one person 
especially. I must think it all over.” 

Think it over I did as I drove to my offices in White- 
hall — the Scotland Yard of the Air — and I discussed 
it afterwards with a certain lady. . . . 

Which is how the following narrative came to be 
written, though I did not complete it until the best 
part of two years had elapsed. 

ii 

I never did any flying during the Great War. I was 
too young, being only fifteen and at Eton when Peace 
was signed. But from the very earliest days that I 
can remember aviation fascinated me as nothing else 
could. My father, the first baronet, left me a moder- 
ate fortune. He died when I was eighteen, and in- 
stead of going to Oxford, I entered as a cadet in the 
R.F.C. It is not necessary to detail how, when I had 
earned my wings, I joined the civil side of flying and 
became a pilot-commander in the Transatlantic Ser- 
vice. I had a good deal of influence behind me, and, 
to cut a long story short, at twenty-eight I was Assis- 
tant, and at thirty Chief Commissioner of the British 
Air Police. I was answerable to Government alone, 
and, within its limits, my powers were absolute. 

It was on a morning in late June, the 25th to be 
exact, when the wheels began to move. I date the 


THE AIR PIRATE 


13 

start of everything from that morning. About one 
o’clock on the preceding night Thumbwood had waked 
me from refreshing sleep. A wireless message, in 
code, had been received at Whitehall. It was addressed 
to me personally, and was from the Controller of the 
White Star Air Line at Plymouth. My people at 
Whitehall, on night duty, thought it of sufficient im- 
portance to send on even at this hour. 

As soon as I was thoroughly awake, and had done 
cursing Thumbwood, I read the message. It only said 
that a matter of the gravest importance required my 
personal presence at Plymouth, and would I come 
down at once. 

Now considerable experience of the fussy great men 
who controlled the air-liner companies, which linked 
up England with all parts of the world, had made me 
somewhat skeptical of these urgent demands for my 
presence. More than once I had to explain that I was 
not at the beck and call of any commercial magnate, 
and if I had made myself disliked in certain quarters 
I had, at least, made my office respected. 

Accordingly I scribbled instructions to the chief in- 
spector on duty that he should send a wireless to Plym- 
outh requesting further details. Then I went to sleep 
again. 

As a matter of fact, I was going to Plymouth the 
next morning in any case, though on private business. 
Sir Joshua Johnson, Controller of the White Star 


THE AIR PIRATE 


13 


Line, did not, of course, know that. His midnight 
message was a coincidence. 

I could have flown down from Whitehall in my fast 
police yacht in an hour, but, as it happened, I was going 
to train from Paddington. Sir Joshua could wait until 
I turned up some time after lunch. 

How well I remember the morning of my departure 
from town. The long departure platform at Padding- 
ton was crowded with well-dressed, happy-looking 
people, as I stood by the door of my reserved carriage 
in the Riviera Express — that superb train, with its 
curved roof, which runs to Plymouth without a stop. 

Thumbwood, invaluable little man, filled the car- 
riage with flowers, great bunches of white lilac and 
June roses, and the station-master, who came up for a 
chat, looked curiously at the bower my valet had made. 
The Chief Commissioner of Air Police was not wont 
to travel like that! 

For my part, I was wildly exhilarated, and at the 
same time, as nervous as a boy making his first flight. 
To-day might prove one of the happiest or quite the 
most miserable of my life. I was going to put it to 
the test. Confound it, why didn’t Connie come? 

On this morning Miss Constance Shepherd, the 
young light-comedy actress, adored of London, and 
to me the rose of all the roses, was traveling down to 
Plymouth to catch'the air-liner starting from that port 


THE AIR PIRATE 


14 

to New York at eight- thirty this evening. And she 
had promised to travel with me! 

Would she have done so, I kept on asking myself, if 
she didn’t know quite well what I meant to say to her ? 
Or was it just friendliness? I knew she liked me. 

. . . Why didn’t she come ? Here it was, only eight 
minutes before the train started. As I searched the 
platform, with an eye that strove to appear calm and 
unconcerned, I saw faces that I knew — faces of theatri- 
cal celebrities, two or three of the prettiest girls in Eng- 
land, a handsome, hook-nosed young man, who was, 
perhaps, the best known theatrical manager in Lon- 
don, two eminent comedians carrying bouquets. And 
the Press photographers were beginning to arrange 
their cameras. . . . 

I had completely forgotten what a tremendous ce- 
lebrity dear little Connie was. I might have known 
they’d have given her a send-off on her way to the 
States. All the same, it annoyed me, as it seemed to 
be annoying a tall, hatchet-faced man in Donegal 
tweeds, who scowled at the little crowd. Was he a 
friend, too, I wondered? 

She came at last, very late of course, and after a 
brief smile at me, underwent the public ceremonies of 
the occasion, while I — I own it — retired into the car- 
riage for a minute or two. But I saw the cameras 
click, and the girls embrace, and the crowd of sight- 
seers trying to push into the charmed circle, and then 


THE AIR PIRATE 


15 


Connie was in the corridor, leaning out of the window, 
waving and smiling as the train began to move to an 
accompaniment of loud cheers. 

“My dear Connie, royalty isn’t in it!” I said, as she 
stepped laughingly into the carriage, and I pushed the 
sliding door home. 

“Oh, they’re dears!” she said, “and they do really 
mean well, despite the fact that we shall all be in the 
picture papers to-morrow morning, and that’s good 
for business.” 

“I thought you were never coming.” 

“It is an impression I convey,” she answered; “but 
I’m very careful, really. My maid was here with the 
luggage half an hour ago. What lovely flowers you 
have got for me, John!” 

She lay back in her seat as the train gathered speed 
and Ealing flashed by with a roar, and I feasted my 
eyes on the fairest picture in the world. 

She wore a simple traveling coat and skirt of white 
pique, and the white lilac was all about her, framing 
her face as she held up a branch to inhale its fragrance. 
All England knew that face in the days when little 
Connie sang and danced herself into the heart of the 
public, but none knew it as well as I. 

How can I describe that marvelous hair of dark 
chestnut, those deep amethyst eyes, and the perfect 
bow of lips which were truer to the exact color of 
coral than any I have ever seen? It only makes a 


16 


THE AIR PIRATE 


catalogue after all. It’s the expression — the soul, if 
you like — that makes the true face ; and here was one 
so frank and kind and sweet that when one looked it 
seemed as if hands were placed beneath the heart, lift- 
ing it up ! 

On one other day only did I see her more lovely than 
she was now. 

Well, it was too early to say what I wanted to say, 
and, besides, I was nervous as yet. We hadn’t settled 
down. As I expected, her breakfast had consisted of 
tea and a macaroon, so I produced a basket — lunch 
was to come later — in which a silver box of caviare 
sandwiches was surrounded by crushed ice in a larger 
box of zinc. There was also iced hock and seltzer 
water. We both felt more at home in a few minutes. 

We had lit our cigarettes, and I was thinking hard, 
when someone passing along the corridor looked in 
upon us for a moment. I had an impression of a 
brown face and a scowl. It was the man in tweeds that 
I had noticed at Paddington. 

‘That beast!” said Connie suddenly. 

I turned and looked at her. She was frowning 
adorably, and I thought she looked rather pale. 

“D’you know him, then?” 

“I did, and I simply hate him.” 

“Who is he?” 

“I expect you’ve heard his name, John. Most people 


THE AIR PIRATE 


17 


have in town. He is Henry Helzephron, a big man 
in your way once. ,, 

I did know the name as that of a pilot of extraordi- 
nary courage and ability during the Great War. He 
had gained the Victoria Cross when a lad of twenty, 
and his exploits during two wonderful years formed 
part of the history of aviation. He had not flown 
for years now, and divided his time between the more 
dissipated haunts of the West End and an estate he 
had somewhere in Devon or Cornwall, a “has-been” 
with a sinister reputation, a lounger of thirty-six. 

“I know. 'Hawk Helzephron’ he used to be called. 
Gone all to pieces, I understand. But how do you 
know him, dear?” 

“He did me the honor to ask me to marry him 
about two months ago,” she answered, “and since 
then he is always putting himself in my way. He does 
not speak, but he comes to the theater and glares. I 
am always meeting him, and I hate the sight of him. 
He makes me afraid. . . .” 

Here was my chance and I took it like a shot. She 
should never be unprotected from Helzephrons and all 
the tribe who haunt the stage door any more! 

A successful aviator takes instantaneous decisions. 
He must. If he hesitates he’s lost. 

What I said, as the Riviera Express hurled itself 
through the summer noon, is not part of this narrative. 
I daresay I was no more original than most men, but 


18 


THE AIR PIRATE 


the results were eminently satisfactory for, as we ran 
past the towers and winding river of Exeter, Connie 
and I were engaged. 

I remember that I lugged the ring out of my waist- 
coat pocket — sapphires and diamonds, a top-shelf ring! 
— precisely as we glided through Exeter Station. 

“O-oh !” said Connie, as the thing winked and shone 
in the sunlight; and then: “You wretch! IT1 never 
forgive you — never !” 

I wondered what was the matter. In fact, I asked 
her. 

“You made so sure of me that you actually bought 
this beforehand!” 

“It doesn’t do to leave anything to chance,” I said, 
and I made her put it on, and gave her several other 
things of no particular importance while she was doing 
it. 

For the rest of the journey, past the red cliffs and 
blue seas of Teignmouth and Paignton, we had a long 
and happy talk, finding out — of course — all sorts of 
delightful things about each other which we had only 
suspected before. 

Perhaps there is nothing fresher and more delightful 
in life than those first few hours of revelation, when a 
man and a girl who love each other have, at last, be- 
come engaged. It is like coming into harbor after an 
anxious voyage, and yet, all the time there is the 


THE AIR PIRATE 19 

splendid knowledge that there are new and marvelous 
seas waiting to be explored, this time — together ! 

Connie was to act in New York for a month and 
in Boston for a fortnight. It was a “star” engage- 
ment, and six weeks would soon pass. Besides, now 
that Plymouth was barely thirty hours from New York, 
there was nothing to prevent me from popping over 
once or twice to see her. I was responsible to no one 
for my time, and half a dozen quite real matters in 
connection with my job would provide a valid excuse. 
After the six weeks were over, why, then, we would 
be married ! 

“There is absolutely no reason on earth why we 
should wait,” I told her, in sublime ignorance of what 
the Fates had in store for both of us. “I’ll have a 
special license ready, and the day you land again on 
this side you shall be Lady Custance, darling!” 

So it was settled, lightly and happily enough, and 
when we left the train at Plymouth Station there was 
not a cloud in the sky or in our hearts. 

I found that Mr. Thumbwood had been making ex- 
cellent use of his time, even as his master had, for the 
little man was assisting a demure and well-looking 
maiden to collect luggage, who turned out to be Con- 
nie’s maid, Wilson. 

We left them to it and drove to the Royal Hotel, 
not before I had seen the train start again on its jour- 
ney to Cornwall, with Mr. Helzephron — whom I had 


20 


THE AIR PIRATE 


quite forgotten — standing in the corridor and regard- 
ing us with a malignant scowl upon his hawk-like, dis- 
sipated countenance. But Mr. Helzephron, and all 
other men alive, were about six a penny to me just 
then. 

Connie was to leave the sea-drome at eight-thirty 
in that fine flying-liner Atlantis. She was a Royal 
Mail ship, and about the fastest and finest flyer in the 
Transatlantic service, with a carrying capacity of three 
hundred and fifty passengers, and a thousand tons dead 
weight df cargo. Her crew numbered forty, and she 
was commanded by Captain Swainson, one of the most 
reliable pilot commanders in the air. He was a man 
I both knew and liked. 

Connie wanted a rest and a sleep. “At least, I want 
to be alone to think it all over !” she said, so she went 
up to her room in the hotel at once. I arranged to call 
for her at five, when we would go for a stroll and af- 
terwards have an early dinner. Then I washed my 
hands and strolled into the famous long bar of the 
hotel for a sandwich and a whisky and soda, before 
proceeding to the offices of the White Star Line on the 
Hoe. 

As I munched my sandwich I wondered what the 
affair was that had made Sir Joshua Johnson send me 
a wireless message in the middle of the night — a time 
when obese old gentlemen should be fast asleep in bed. 
I had told my people at Whitehall to ask for further 


THE AIR PIRATE 


21 


particulars, but I had not the least intention of being 
bothered with them — or any police business whatever 
— until I had settled my own personal affairs with 
Connie. Accordingly, when I left my chambers in the 
morning to go to Paddington, I sent a message to 
Whitehall to say that I was proceeding to Plymouth 
during the day, and would wait till my arrival to hear 
what the business was. Muir Lockhart, my assistant, 
would perfectly understand, and was quite capable of 
dealing with anything that might come along. 

The long bar was, as usual, full of naval officers, 
with a sprinkling of Air Merchant Service men in their 
uniform of gray, silver and light blue. I saw no one 
that I knew, until the swing-doors leading into the 
hotel were flung open, and a wiry little man in the black 
and silver uniform of my own corps came hurriedly 
in. His peaked cap, with the silver wings and sword 
badge, was pushed back on his head, and he was in 
a state of unenviable heat and perspiration. He was 
Pilot Superintendent Lashmar, chief of the Ocean 
Patrol stationed at Plymouth, with equal rank to a lieu- 
tenant-commander in the Navy, and one of my most 
trusted officers in the West. 

He went up to the bar and ordered a “long glass of 
iced ginger-beer, with a dash of gin in it,” and then I 
clapped him on the shoulder. He wheeled round in a 
second, and when he saw who it was his face changed 
from anxiety to relief. 


22 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“Thank Heaven you’re come, sir,” he said, as he 
saluted. “We’ve been signaling to Whitehall all the 
morning, and all we could get was that you were on 
your way. I’ve been backwards and forwards from 
the A.P. Headquarters to the White Star Office a 
dozen times.” 

“I came down by train, Mr. Lashmar,” I said, realiz- 
ing in an instant that there really was something im- 
portant afoot, and that by bad luck I was behind time. 
Sir Joshua Johnson was all very well, but when my 
own people began to send out signals — that was quite 
another matter. 

“We thought you’d fly down in the yacht, sir, and 
we’ve been sending wireless trying to pick you up.” 

“I couldn’t. I have had some most important busi- 
ness to attend to. Anyhow, I’m here now. What’s it 
all about?” 

“You haven’t heard anything , sir?” he asked in 
amazement. 

Again I cursed my luck, but I wasn’t going to give 
it away. “We’ll go round to Sir Joshua Johnson at 
once,” was all I said. 

“That will be best, sir, and then every detail can be 
put before you in sequence. I have my report with 
me, written up to date. I think I’ve taken all possible 
measures up to the present, but, of course, we’ve been 
waiting for you. Sir Joshua, as you may imagine, is 
half out of his wits.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


23 

“He’s not had very far to travel, then,” I said to 
gain time. All this was so much Greek to me, and I 
had to walk warily. 

In a minute more Lashmar and I were on the Hoe 
and approaching the stately offices of the Line, which 
stood in the very center of that famous promenade 
above the blue waters of the Sound. 


CHAPTER II 


FATE OF THE TRANSATLANTIC AIR-LINER “ALBATROS” 



HERE were a good many people in both the 


X ante-room and the secretaries’ room as I was 
led to Sir Joshua. I was immediately aware of an 
unusual stir and excitement, and people nodded and 
whispered as I passed — “That’s Sir John Custance, 
the Police Commissioner.” “I expect there’s some 
news,” were two of the sotto voce remarks I heard. 

Sir Joshua sat in his own magnificent apartment, 
with the great window looking out over Drake’s Island 
and Mount Edgcombe to the horizon. A tray and a 
decanter showed that he had lunched there, and there 
was a good deal of cigar smoke in the air. 

Sir Joshua was a tall and corpulent man of nearly 
seventy, with a red face with little purple veins in the 
cheeks, a thatch of snow-white hair and close whiskers. 
He had been an early pioneer of commercial flying, 
and had reaped his reward in the control of the finest 
air fleet in the world and the Lord knows how many 
millions of money. He was distinctly an able and 
upright man, and his only faults were a slight pom- 


24 


THE AIR PIRATE 


25 


posity and a mistaken idea that the Commissioner of 
A.P. for Great Britain was a sort of unpaid official of 
The White Star Line ! A good many of the great air- 
shipping magnates had tried to take that line in the 
past — and been snubbed for their pains! 

Sir Joshua was not pompous this afternoon, and 
his face was twitching as he shook hands. 

“Thank God you’re come, Sir John,” he said, “I am 
almost out of my mind with worry and anxiety. You 
will agree with me that this affair is as grave as it well 
can be ?” 

To that I was diplomatically silent. What I said 
was: “I have seen Superintendent Pilot Lashmar. 
What I want now, Sir Joshua, as a preliminary, is a 
brief and exact account from your own lips.” 

“Sit down,” he said, pushing a padded chair towards 
me and handing a box of cigars. “You shall have it in 
a nutshell.” He sat down opposite to me, pulled some 
papers towards him with a hand that shook a little, 
and began to read. 

. . . “Our liner Albatros , carrying the mails, left 
New York yesterday morning about seven a.m., Ameri- 
can time. She was consequently due here at Plymouth 
about six-thirty this afternoon — Greenwich. The 
weather conditions at the ten thousand feet mail-ship 
level were perfect. In addition to the mails there were 
about two hundred passengers, and she carried, though 
this was known only to a few officials, a parcel of par- 


26 


THE AIR PIRATE 


ticularly fine Brazilian diamonds, consigned from Tif- 
fany’s of New York to Aaron and Harris, the dealers 
in precious stones, of Hatton Garden. The jewels 
were in the ship’s safe, in charge of the purser. Va- 
rious ships — I have the full list — sighted the Albatros 
during the day and exchanged signals, while she duly 
reported herself by wireless as she passed each light- 
ship, as soon as dusk fell. The lightships, as you know, 
are a hundred miles apart from the Fastnet to Long 
Island, and are connected by cable with our telegraph 
room here. The indicating dials register, degree by 
geographical degree, the exact position of any of our 
ships when in the air. This record is printed on a 
tape beneath each dial, and each record is examined 
every hour or two by a clerk.” 

Of course, I knew all this. The minutest detail of 
the system was familiar. I wished that Sir Joshua 
would “cut the cackle and come to the ’osses.” No 
doubt my face showed something of what I felt, for 
Sir Joshua half apologized. 

“You see, Sir John,” he said, “I thought it best to 
prepare some sort of short and coherent statement for 
the Press. As yet they have got hold of nothing, but 
we can’t possibly keep it much longer. Even you 
couldn’t, with all your powers. And what I am read- 
ing is this statement. I particularly want you to hear 
it, as, of course, it rests with you if it shall be published 
in this form or not.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


27 


I bowed, and Sir Joshua continued : 

“At ten o’clock last night the clerk on duty examined 
the tapes. When he came to the one recording the pro- 
gress of the Albatros, he found that for two hours 
there was no record of her at all. The last record was 
that she had passed and signaled to Lightship A. 70 
that all was well. A two hours’ gap is so unusual, ow- 
ing to the — er — perfection of our organization, that 
the clerk was alarmed, and reported the matter to a 
superior upstairs. 

“A general call to all our ships in the air at that 
moment was at once sent out, and in a few minutes 
responses were received from several of them to the 
effect that the Albatros had not been sighted. Nor 
was there any answer from the ship herself. A signal 
to Lightship A. 71, the next guide-boat the Albatros 
should have passed, elicited the information that she 
had never done so. By eleven o’clock all these facts 
were known in this office. The night staff here became 
seriously alarmed. By a fortunate coincidence I was 
attending a performance at the Theatre Royal close 
by, with Lady Johnson and my daughters. This was 
known, and a messenger caught me at the close of the 
play, and I came round at once. I had not been in the 
offices for five minutes, when news of the most extra- 
ordinary and sensational character began to come in 
from our receiving station by the Citadel. 

“Captain Pring, one of our most reliable pilot com- 


28 


THE AIR PIRATE 


manders, was in charge of the Albatros. The message 
was from him, and this is the gist of it. At sundown 
the Albatros was flying on the ten-thousand-foot level. 
The Lightship A. 70 was some twenty miles astern. 
No other airships were in sight, when the look-out 
man reported a boat coming up at great speed from the 
east. The Albatros was doing her steady ninety knots, 
but as the two ships approached, it was seen that the 
stranger, a much smaller boat, was flying at an almost 
incredible rate. Pring reports that she was doing a 
sixteen to eighteen second mile, but there is doubtless 
a mistake in the message. 

“The boat showed no distinguishing lights, and 
failed to signal, as she flashed past the liner at the 
distance of half a mile. There were several curious 
features about her which attracted attention, though 
what these were we do not yet know. This strange 
ship turned and came up with the Albatros , actually 
flying round her in spirals with the greatest ease. 
Then, without the slightest warning, she opened fire 
on our vessel, and the first shell, obviously by design, 
blew away our wireless.” 

My heart simply bounded within me. This was 
news with a vengeance! I had to exercise all my self- 
control not to pour out a stream of frantic questions. 
It was beyond thinking! Such a thing had not hap- 
pened since the League of Nations came into being. 
It might mean hideous war once more — anything! 


THE AIR PIRATE 


29 


Sir Joshua had paused to drink a glass of water. He 
understood the immense gravity of this news as well as 
I did, and his voice was unsteady as he went on in 
answer to my nod! 

“The Albatros was helpless. Since the international 
agreement that only naval, military and police ships 
may fly armed, she had no possible means of defense. 
Flight, even, was impossible, and the loss of her wire- 
less forbade her to summon help. Then the anony- 
mous ship turned a machine gun on her rudder and 
shot it out of gear. There was nothing for it but to 
descend to the water and rest on her floats. Pring was 
forced to give the order, and she planed down. The 
other ship followed and took the water not two hun- 
dred yards away. 

“She then signaled in Morse code, with a Klaxon 
horn, that she was sending men aboard the Albatros, 
and that if the captain or crew offered the slightest 
resistance she’d blow her to pieces. They launched a 
Berthon collapsible boat from a door in the stern fusi- 
lage. There were four men in her, all armed with 
large-caliber automatic pistols, and wearing pilot’s 
hoods and masks with talc eye-pieces, so that it was 
impossible to identify them. Pring could do nothing 
at all. He had the passengers to consider. These 
ruffians cleared out the safe and the women’9 jewel- 
cases — they left the mails alone — and in ten minutes 
they were back again with the loot. The ship lifted 


30 


THE AIR PIRATE 


and went off in the dark at two hundred miles an hour, 
leaving the Albatros helpless upon the water. 

“It was a business of several hours to rig up a 
makeshift rudder, but, fortunately, her searchlights 
were all right, and she kept on signaling with these 
until she was sighted by a big cargo steamer, a Balti- 
more to Cadiz boat, coming up from the south, the 
Sant Iago. She took off the passengers and is bring- 
ing them home; she’s only a fifteen-knot boat, but I 
have already dispatched one of our smaller liners to 
pick her up and take the passengers aboard. They 
ought to be here some time to-morrow. 

“The Sant Iago has wireless, and was able to com- 
municate, not only with us, but also with the air-yacht 
May Flower , which she sighted on the four-thousand- 
foot level at dawn. The May Flower belongs to Mr. 
Van Adams, the Philadelphia millionaire, who is cross- 
ing to England with a party of friends. She came 
down to the water and took up Commander Pring and 
the second officer, and should be here by tea-time this 
afternoon. Then we shall know more of this un- 
precedented, this deplorable business.” 

“And the Albatros , Sir Joshua?” 

“A small crew was left on her, and an emergency 
tender and workmen started at dawn. She ought to 
be flying again to-night.” 

I had all the available facts at last, and long before 
Sir Joshua had finished my mind was busy as a mill. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


31 


There was going to be the very biggest sort of com- 
motion over this. England and America would be in 
a blaze of fury within twenty-four hours, and every 
flying man, from the skippers of the lordly London- 
Brindisi-Bombay boats, or the Transatlantic Line, to 
the sporting commercial traveler in a secondhand 50 
h.p. trussed-girder blow-fly, would be wagging the ad- 
monishing finger at me. 

“Thank you, Sir Joshua. Most lucid, if I may say 
50. As a clear statement of fact, combined with a 
sense of vivid narrative, your account could hardly 
be improved on.” 

“You think, Sir John . . 

“When the time comes to make a statement for the 
newspapers I would not alter a word.” 

Thus did the tongue of the flatterer evade a situa- 
tion that might have been a trifle awkward for me. I 
rose at that. “I must leave you now, Sir Joshua,” I 
said, “as I have a great deal to see to and must rejoin 
Mr. Lashmar. Steps have already been taken, and 
later on in the day I shall be able to tell you more. 
Meanwhile I shall see Captain Pring directly the May 
Flower arrives, and before anyone else. Our future 
action must depend a great deal on his statement.” 

This was said in my curtest official manner, and 
then I got out of the room as quickly as I possibly 
could. Lashmar was waiting, and I took him by the 
arm and hurried him out of the office. 


32 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“I’ve only just heard full details, Lashmar, and 
pretty bad they are. Now has anything been done — 
by us, I mean ?” 

“I had two of our patrol ships out at two-thirty this 
morning cruising over a wide area, sir. They are out 
still, and reporting every hour. No results, no strange 
airship seen anywhere. I’ve been out myself up and 
down the Irish coast and round the Scillies this morn- 
ing, more for form’s sake than anything else. And 
I’ve cabled the whole story, as far as we know it, to 
the States.” 

“Good! Any reply from them?” 

“Their police ships are out from Cape Breton to 
the Bermudas, but they don’t seem to have sighted 
anything out of the ordinary as yet.” 

“Of course, it would be like looking for a needle 
in a haystack along that huge stretch, eight hundred 
miles if it’s an inch. But, as far as I can see, it’s up to 
them; not us.” 

“You think so, sir?” 

“Why, yes. It’s a case of sheer rank and daring 
piracy. It’s been organized with great skill, and the 
pirates, whoever they are, have command of some- 
thing quite out-size in the way of a ship. There isn’t 
a works in England where such a boat could be built 
without our knowing about it before it was launched. 
And it’s dead certain that there’s nowhere in these little 
islands to hide her. Every single bit of spruce and 


THE AIR PIRATE 


33 


piano wire with a motor-bicycle engine that can fly 
ten yards has to be registered and licensed by me. 
No, this is an American stunt. ,, 

We had been crossing the Hoe as we talked, in the 
direction of the Citadel, and we now came to the long, 
low building of Dartmoor stone, which is the Plymouth 
Headquarters of the A.P. It is perched on the edge 
of the cliff, and within five yards of the spot where 
Sir Francis Drake is said to have finished his game of 
bowls when the Armada was coming up Channel. 

We passed through the gates, where the police sentry 
presented arms, and began to walk up and down the 
terrace. 

“Signal to Southampton,” I ordered, “and get a 
couple of their fastest boats here at once. They may 
be useful in an emergency, and it will look as if we 
are doing something. Ready for action, of course, 
and with full service ammunition and bombs. Sir 
Joshua may have a fit if he likes, but there is nothing 
to be done until we know more — unless you can sug- 
gest anything?” 

The little man shook his head. He was keen as a 
terrier, of course, and he had already acted with 
great promptitude and wisdom. 

Just then an orderly came out on to the terrace and 
handed me a signal. 

I read it out to Lashmar : “Air-yacht May Flower 
just passed St. Mary’s doing ninety knots.” It was 


34 


THE AIR PIRATE 


from our most westerly A.P. station on Tresco in the 
Scillies. Lashmar made a rough calculation: “Twen- 
ty-five miles west-sou’-west of Land’s End, add an- 
other seventy — she’ll be here just under the hour, sir.” 

“Then I tell you what, Mr. Lashmar, go and meet 
her and escort her home. Not a living soul must speak 
to Captain Pring before I do — not even Sir Joshua or 
any of the White Star people. Give that as my orders 
when you meet the yacht. But put it very politely to 
Mr. Van Adams — my compliments and that sort of 
thing. He’s the sort of person who could buy the 
goodwill of the universe for ready money. Make your 
escort appear a compliment from the Government!” 

Lashmar never wasted words. He understood ex- 
actly, saluted, and hurried to the electric railway, which 
ran down like a chute into the sea-drome far below. 
I lit a cigarette and watched, and it was a sight worth 
watching. 

Beyond stretched the largest sea-drome in Great 
Britain, a harbor within a harbor, surrounded by 
massive concrete walls. In the roughest weather, when 
even within the distant breakwater the Sound is tur- 
bulent, the sea-drome is calm as a duck-pond. Now it 
was like a sheet of polished silver, and resting on their 
great floats at their moorings were three gigantic air- 
liners, with electric launches and motor-boats plying 
between them and the landing-stages. 

Right in the center was the splendid Atlantis , grace- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


35 


ful as a swan, by which Connie was to leave for the 
States in a few hours. She was surrounded by a 
swarm of boats no bigger than water-beetles from 
where I stood. 

A bell rang, there was a rumbling sound, and from 
a tunnel just beneath me the car, with Lashmar in it, 
shot down to the water like a stone running down a 
house roof. As the car dwindled to a punt, a match- 
box, and finally a postage stamp, I heard the creak 
and swish of the semaphore behind me on the roof of 
the station. On the far side of the sea-drome was 
our Patrol Ship No. I, stream-line fusilage, with the 
familiar red, white and blue line, snow-white planes, 
guns fore and aft, and twin propellers of phosphor 
bronze winking white-hot in the afternoon sun. 

The semaphore was sighted in five seconds. I got 
a pair of glasses, and saw that the engines were al- 
ready “ticking over” as Lashmar jumped into a launch 
and went over the pool, with a cream-white wake be- 
hind him and two ostrich plumes of spray six feet 
high at the bows. He was on board in less time than 
it takes to write it. I heard the faint throbbing of the 
four high-compression engines change to the drone 
of a hornet. No. I Patrol slid over the water until 
her floats lifted — lifted until they barely touched the 
surface, and she was clear. One clean spiral over 
Pinklecombe way, and then, as she mounted, she turned 
and was off over Rams Head like an arrow from a 


86 


THE AIR PIRATE 


bow. Though I say it that shouldn’t, my officers and 
men of the A.P. were just about as good as they’re 
made ! 

There was a good three-quarters of an hour to spare, 
and the Royal Hotel was not four minutes away. 
After the recent excitements a cup of tea with Connie 
seemed just the thing. As I legged it over the Hoe, 
I realized that I might be very busy for some time, 
and, in consequence, late for dinner. I must tell my 
girl that something of great importance had happened, 
though, in any case, I was determined to see her off, 
come what might. 

Then I remembered something. As Chief Commis- 
sioner I had absolute control over the air-ports of 
England in a time of crisis. In any case, it would be 
as well to close the sea-drome in preparation for the 
May Flower's arrival. I should then be certain that 
no one could possibly get at Captain Pring before I 
could. And if I chose to detain even the Royal Mail 
for half an hour later on in the evening — under the 
circumstances! — no one would say me nay. 

There is a telephone box in the hall of the Royal 
Hotel. In thirty seconds my orders were given, and 
not a living soul would enter or leave Plymouth sea- 
drome without my permission. Then I strolled into 
the winter gardens, where I found Connie sitting at a 
little table among tubs of azaleas and listening to the 
strains of a ladies’ orchestra. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


37 


“I’ve half an hour and ten minutes exactly, darling,” 
I said, putting my watch on the table and helping her 
to early strawberries. “Tell me when the time’s up, 
and then I must rush away for an hour before we 
dine.” 

Straightway I forgot all about the Albatros, Captain 
Pring, and the mysterious armed ship in mid-Atlantic. 

Knowing what I know now, I wonder how I could 
have taken it so lightly, even then. But grave and 
serious as the affair was, amazing, too, in its boldness, 
an elaborate and unexpected masterpiece of crime, it 
seemed remote and very far away, like something one 
reads of in a foreign newspaper, never conceiving that 
it can have anything to do with one’s own personal 
life. 

If only I could have peeped but a little way into the 
future ! 


CHAPTER III 


“ COLD-BLOODED PIRACY IN THE HIGH AIR” 

P ILOT-COMMANDER PRING was a tall, lean, 
lantern- jawed officer, who, though of English 
nationality, had spent most of his life in America. 
His face was still pale and grim with passion and 
mortification as I closed the door of my private room 
at the A.P. Station on him, Mr. Van Adams, the multi- 
millionaire, and Mr. Rickaby, second officer of the 
A lb a tr os. 

“Now, gentlemen, sit down, please,’’ I said. “And 
I will ask Captain Pring a few questions. Sir Joshua 
Johnson has given me the main facts, but I want de- 
tails. I won’t detain you long, but I felt I ought to 
see you before anyone else.” 

“Oh, quite!” said Mr. Van Adams, a fleshy man, 
with a watchful eye and a jaw like a pike. 

“This is an extraordinary affair, Captain Pring,” 
I went on. “But, thank goodness, you haven’t lost 
your ship, or any lives. I know what you feel about 
the Albatros” 

“She is father, mother, brother, sister, hired girl 
38 


THE AIR PIRATE 


39 


and dog under the wagon to me!” said Pring, and 
then he blazed up into fury. I disentangle the few 
words I can. The majority were too overdressed for 
respectable society. 

. . His Majesty’s Mails! First time in history 
of flying, and it’s happened to me! Cold-blooded 
piracy in the High Air! They’d have blown us to 
pieces as soon as look at us ! When I get hold of that 
slime lapping leper, the pirate skipper, I won’t leave 
him hide or hair to cover the wart he calls his 
heart! . . and so on, for a good two minutes by the 
office chronometer. 

I let him rip. It was the quickest way. It’s dan- 
gerous to throttle down a man like Pring. 

‘The Captain is, naturally, furious,” I said. 

“Oh, quite!” answered Mr. Van Adams. 

Then we got to business. “The strange airship, Cap- 
tain Pring. Let’s begin with that. She approached 
you flying West , I understand?” 

“She did, Sir John. Does that put you wise to 
anything?” 

“It would appear that she was coming from Europe. 
But that was probably a trick. She might have been 
waiting about for hours.” 

“Curious thing, then, that all the ships in the air 
during the last thirty hours that were within fifteen 
hundred miles of the American and Canadian coast 
never saw anything of her. The Air Police of the 


40 


THE AIR PIRATE 


U.S.A. have questioned every registered boat, Trans- 
atlantic and coastal trade, and not one of them sighted 
her. And, as you know, Sir John, from Cape Race 
to Charleston in summer weather the air's as thick 
with craft as gnats over a pond. Ain't that so, Mr. 
Van Adams, sir?" 

“Quite, Captain Pring." 

“I see your inference. Well, we'll leave that for a 
moment. I understand that there were some peculiar 
features about this ship. What were they?" 

“She's the fastest thing in the air, bar none. That 
I can swear to. A pilot of my experience can't well 
be deceived, and if that ship — she’s one of the very 
few I've seen with four propellers — can’t do two hun- 
dred and forty miles an hour, without a following 
wind , mind , then I’m a paretic!" 

I whistled. Such speeds had been dreamed of but 
never known. “Nearly three times hurricane ve- 
locity!" I said. 

“She'd race the dawn, Sir John! and that’s my hon- 
est belief. There’s never been such a flying boat be- 
fore. And she don’t carry a crew of more than twelve 
or fifteen men, in my opinion. The rest’s all engines 
and petrol. She ain't more than twice the size of one 
of your patrol ships, all over." 

This was talking! Each moment the affair grew 
more tense and interesting. 

“That narrows our field of search no end," I re- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


41 


marked. “A boat like that can't be built anywhere 
in the world without leaving traces." 

“It colors the cat different, sure," said Captain 
Pring. “Now, here’s another point. Gum! I’m going 
to startle you some more, Sir John, but, as God sees 
me, I’m speaking truth. Here’s Mr. Rickaby here 
as’U swear to all I say. . . 

He looked at the second officer, a good-looking, 
brown-faced lad. “It’s all gospel, Sir John," he broke 
in. 

“Of course,” I said impatiently, “I know you 
couldn’t be mistaken, Pring, and I won’t insult you by 
thinking you’d pull a Chief Commissioner’s leg over 
an affair of this importance. What’s number two? 
Let’s have it!" 

“The man who runs her, or the man who built her, 
has solved another problem. He’s produced silent 
engines at last ! That ship’s motors don’t make more 
noise than a June bug! On a dark night she could 
pass within two hundred yards of you, and you’d 
never guess that she was near." 

From that moment I saw the thing in its true pro- 
portions. From that moment the air became unsafe. 
A man-eating tiger let loose upon a quiet country-side 
was not a tithe as dangerous. 

The three other men saw that I understood. 

“The scoundrels who came aboard the Albatros and 
looted the ship. What of them?” 


42 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“They were masked so’s their mothers wouldn’t 
have known ’em. Armed to the teeth, too. We’d 
have downed them quick enough, even at the cost of 
a life or two, but there was the pirate with a four- 
inch gun trained on us. And she meant business. I 
did right, Sir John?” 

The poor fellow’s voice shook, and his face was 
corrugated with anxiety. 

“I should have done exactly the same myself under 
the circumstances, Pring. Your first duty was to the 
women and children under your care. That view, I 
am certain, will be accepted by the company and the 
Government, to say nothing of the public, when it gets 
out. About these men, again, did you judge them to 
be American or foreigners?” 

“They didn’t speak much, except to give a few 
orders. But what they did say I heard, every word. 
I was with them all the time, and so was Mr. Rickaby 
here. I’ll spring another surprise on you, Sir John, 
and then I’ve done. Those chaps were English , every 
one of them. And, what’s more, they weren’t any 
plug-ugly crowd neither ! They were educated men of 
some social position, club men at some time or other, 
or I’m a short sport !” 

The second officer spoke. “Captain Pring is perfectly 
right, sir,” he said modestly. “I’ll swear that they had 
been public school or ’Varsity men at some time or 
other.” 


THE Am PIRATE 


43 


“Where were you ?” I asked quickly. 

“Harrow, sir.” 

I nodded. Here was another astounding fact for 
consideration when I was alone. 

“And then, after a time,” Pring continued, “the Sant 
I ago tramp steamer freighter came up from way down 
South and rescued us. After that we sighted the lights 
of Mr. Van Adams’ air yacht, the May Flower , and in 
answer to our signal he came down and took me and 
Rickaby aboard.” 

“Quite,” said the laconic millionaire. 

“To-night, Captain Pring, I shall want a long talk 
with you. Now I must surrender you to Sir Joshua. 
For the present, I want you all three to give me your 
words of honor that you will tell no one at all any- 
thing about the appearance or speed of the ship, that 
her engines were silent, or you suspect the ruffians on 
her to be English. That is most important. In fact, 
I must make it an order, under the powers with which 
I am invested by the Secretary of State. As an order, 
it cannot apply to you, Mr. Van Adams, but you have 
been so kind and helpful hitherto that I feel sure you’ll 
give me your promise? You must see how necessary 
it is.” 

Mr. Van Adams was going to use his word-of-all- 
work, I saw it coming, when he changed his mind. 

“I’m on,” he said instead. 

The two pilots gave me their assurances, and we 


THE AIR PIRATE 


44 

walked out of the office together. As we went along 
the terrace Pring pointed down to the sea-drome, where 
the millionaire’s air yacht, a beautiful boat, painted 
cream color and black, was now resting at her moor- 
ings. 

‘The Atlantis starts to-night,” he said significantly. 

“She will be escorted by an armed patrol,” I said, 
“until she meets one of the American A.P. ships in 
mid-ocean. Surely, you don’t think there’s any 
danger ?” 

To tell the truth, I had been so concentrated upon 
the matter in hand that I had hardly given a thought 
to the outgoing liner. Can you blame me? Anyway, 
duty came before any private considerations. Now, 
Pring’ s remark started a new set of thoughts. I 
looked at him with great anxiety. He did not know 
the whole of my reason, but he saw that I was dis- 
turbed. 

“No, Sir John,” he answered, “I don’t think the 
danger worth the waggle of a mule’s ear. It was only 
a passing remark. It stands to reason that Captain 
Kidd’ll know that the police boats of two hemispheres 
are out looking for him in swarms by now. He’ll 
figure that out, sure. If he was to start any of his 
stunts within the next few days, he’d have about as 
much chance as a fat man in Fiji.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“You may make your mind easy about the Atlantis, 


THE AIR PIRATE 45 

sir. Besides, as you say, to put the lid on, she’ll be 
escorted.” 

“Quite,” I said involuntarily, and then we both 
laughed. 

“Royal Hotel at ten-thirty,” I said. “I shall be 
staying there to-night.” 

I shall never forget that dinner with Connie. One 
of her greatest charms is her serene light-heartedness. 
It is not silliness or frivolity, don’t think that, but the 
bloom upon the fruit of a clear and happy nature whose 
conscience is at rest. My girl wasn’t a fool. She was 
not ignorant of evil and the gray sides of life. But 
they left her untouched. Perhaps her very simplicity, 
the gay and stainless courage that she wore like a flag 
through life, had helped her to her great success. The 
British public might admire and enjoy the work of 
other artists, but they had taken little Connie Shepherd 
to their hearts. 

She was gay at our dinner, bubbling over with joy 
and fun. I did my best to respond, but it was rather 
difficult. There was a shadow on my mind, and it 
would not go away. 

“Dearest old John!” she said once, “what is it? 
You’re sad, inside of you, and you’re pretending you’re 
not!” 

“Darling, in an hour or two you’ll be gone. How 
can I be very happy?” 

She shook her head. “It’s not that. You can’t de- 


46 


THE AIR PIRATE 


ceive me. I don’t want to part, either, especially on 
this day of days. But we are both of us sensible, and 
we both know it’s only for six weeks. You aren’t in 
the least sentimental — horrid word! — nor am I. We 
go deeper than that.” 

“Well, then, to tell you the truth” — and it was the 
truth — “I am a bit under the weather, and I can’t quite 
say why. Perhaps it’s reaction. But most probably, 
it’s because I have been hearing some news, a matter 
in connection with my work which has excited me. 
It’s a problem of organization I must solve at once. 
Forgive me, sweetheart!” 

“My dear, if you were not what you are, I should 
never have said f yes.’ No one has ever had such a 
position as you at your age, and I know how you’ve 
fought for it. I love you to be preoccupied about your 
work.” 

We finished dinner, however, in a happier mood, 
and then walked down to the sea-drome together. 
Connie’s heavy luggage had gone to New York by 
steamer a week ago. The two small trunks she had 
brought with her from London were already on board 
the Atlantis , and Wilson and Thumbwood carried a 
couple of dressing-bags. 

It was a perfect evening. The sun, in going to rest, 
had hung the sky with banners, golden and glorious. 
The music of a band upon the pier came softly up 
to the terrace of the A.P. Station. Young men and 


THE AIR PIRATE 


47 


maidens in summer clothes strolled up and down over 
the greens, and a sickle-shaped new moon was rising 
over Devonport and the Hamoaze. 

We went down in the electric car, and boarded the 
Atlantis from one of my launches. She was lit up in 
all her triple decks, as we climbed aboard by the saloon 
accommodation ladder, and a steward took Connie 
and her maid to her cabin, while I went to find my old 
friend, Captain Swainson. 

The big, bearded man was sitting alone in his little 
room. There was a cup of black coffee by his side, 
and he was chewing an unlighted cigar. I saw at once 
that he had heard something. 

“The very man!” he cried, jumping up from his 
basket chair and gripping me warmly by the hand. “I 
heard you were here, Sir John, and I made sure of 
seeing you before I started. Now what’s all this? Sir 
Joshua’s half out of his mind with worry, the offices 
are turned upside down, and Seth Pring — confound 
him! — is as close as an oyster!” 

I found out that he knew just what Sir Joshua knew, 
and no more. He was indignant but quite cool, in- 
clined to minimize the whole affair. 

It seemed to me that to tell him the whole truth 
would serve no good purpose. 

Pilot Superintendent Lashmar, whom I was going 
to send in command of the escort, would, of course, 
know everything. 


48 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“Well, I'm sending an escort with you half-way 
across,” I said. “Lashmar will go — you know him ? — 
in No. i Patrol Boat. It’s heavily armed, and he can 
shoot straighter than any man in the service. Got his 
experience in the Great War.” 

“Escort be blowed!” said hearty Captain Swainson. 
“I can’t think what old Pring was about to let himself 
be held up like that — though, of course, it’s just as you 
wish, Sir John.” 

“I don’t suppose there’s the least need of it, Swain- 
son. But this business’ll make a bit of a noise, and 
it looks well. Now I’ll tell you a secret. I’m engaged 
to be married! Settled it coming down in the train 
this morning.” 

“The deuce you are ! A thousand congratulations !” 

“Thanks. What’s more, the lady is aboard you~ 
ship, and flies to New York with you to-night. T want 
you to look after her for me.” 

“Can a duck swim? Well, this is news! Now I 
understand about that escort! But do introduce me, 
Sir John. It will be more than a pleasure to make the 
young lady comfortable.” 

We went off to seek Connie, and found her sitting 
behind one of the multiplex wind-screens on the saloon 
deck, listening to the music of a piano and violin that 
came through the open hatch of the palm-court below. 

I remember that the musicians were playing a selec- 


THE AIR PIRATE 49 

tion of old English airs, sweet, plaintive music, and 
had just got to “The Last Rose of Summer.” 

Pm not emotional, but when I hear that tune to-day 
— thank goodness, it isn’t often! — I go out of the 
room. 

At a quarter to nine I stood on the Hoe and watched 
the Atlantis start for America. Her navigation lights 
were all turned on; the innumerable port-holes of the 
huge fusilage made an amber necklace below the im- 
mense gray planes. 

Then, from the towers on the sea-drome wall the 
“flare-path” shot out — an avenue of white and steady 
light to guide the liner outwards. From the roof of 
the A.P. Station the compressed air-horn sent out three 
long, brazen calls. I had arranged it so. It was my 
Godspeed to Constance. Old Swainson answered on 
his Klaxon, and then the liner began to move slowly 
over the glittering water. Every second she increased 
her speed and lifted until she rose clear and slanted 
upwards. I had a vision of the mysterious silvery 
thing like a moth in the center of the light-beam, and 
then the flare-path shifted out to sea, and rose till it 
was almost at a right angle with the water. The 
Atlantis was spiraling up to her ten- thousand- foot 
level, and in a moment or two she was nothing more 
than a speck. 

Just as I lost sight of her, Patrol Ship No. i lifted 


50 


THE AIR PIRATE 


and followed like a hawk after a heron, and then both 
ships were lost in the night. 

The band on Plymouth Pier was still playing. The 
young men and maidens were still strolling round the 
lawns in the moonlight. The air was sweet and pure, 
full of laughter and the voices of girls. But I went 
back to the station with a heavy heart. 

Two shorthand clerks and two telegraphists were 
waiting for me, and in the next hour I got through an 
infinity of work. There was a mass of telegrams to 
answer from America. They had been re-wired from 
Whitehall. I had to send out fifty or sixty signals to 
organize a complete patrol of the Atlantic air-lanes. 
There was a long and confidential “wireless” to my 
assistant, Muir Lockhart, in London, and last, though 
by no means least, a condensed report of everything 
for the Home Secretary. It was after ten when I had 
finished, and I walked slowly back to the “Royal,” 
dead tired in mind and body. When I came to think 
of it, I realized that this had been one of the most 
eventful and exciting days of my life. 

Thumbwood — you will hear a great deal about him 
before this narrative is over — was waiting in the halL 
He hurried me upstairs to where a tepid bath dashed 
with ammonia was waiting. Five minutes in this, a 
brisk rub down, a complete change into evening kit, a 
tea-cup of Bovril with a tablespoon of brandy and a 


THE AIR PIRATE 


51 


pinch of celery salt in it — what Thumbwood called 
my “bran-mash” — and I was a new man again. 

For a perfect valet commend me a man who has 
had charge of racehorses in his time ! 

Then I went down to meet Captain Pring. I saw 
at once, as I came into the public rooms of the hotel, 
that the news was out. Groups of people were stand- 
ing together and talking earnestly. There was a buzz 
of suppressed excitement, natural anywhere, but par- 
ticularly so in the principal air-port of England. 

And there were special editions of the evening 
papers. . . . 

These — I got one and looked — had made the most 
of very scanty material. Nothing like the whole truth 
had leaked out, but there was, nevertheless, a sensa- 
tion of the first magnitude. I was recognized and 
pointed to; a naval captain even spoke, and tried to 
pump me ! — though he soon found that there was noth- 
ing doing — and when Captain Pring came into the 
lounge some idiot started to cheer, and there was what 
the papers describe as a “scene.” 

Pring and I supped alone in a private room and had 
a long confidential talk, in the course of which I learnt 
many things. I am not going to give any details of 
that talk at present. It was momentous — it is enough 
to say that now — and has its proper place further on 
in the story. 

The worthy Captain went at twelve, and I retired to 


52 


THE AIR PIRATE 


bed. Thumbwood slept in a dressing-room opening 
out of my bedroom. By his couch was a telephone, 
which I arranged was to be connected with the A.P. 
Station all night long. If any signal came Thumb- 
wood was to take it, and, if important, wake me at 
once. 

... I am going to conclude this first portion of the 
narrative in as few lines as possible. Even to-day I 
shirk the writing of them. 

I was awakened suddenly to find my room blazing 
with light; I afterwards found that the exact time 
was 2.30 a.m. 

Thumbwood was standing by the bed. “Sir John,” 
he said hoarsely, “there’s a signal !” 

One glance at the lad’s face was enough, and I set 
my teeth — hard. 

“Bad news?” 

“Terrible news, Sir John!” 

“Go on.” 

“Atlantis attacked two hundred miles west of Cork. 
Captain Swainson and four other men shot dead. 
Patrol Boat No. 1 disabled. Commander Lashmar 
and most of the crew killed. Signal got through by 
two survivors of crew, who managed to repair wire- 
less.” 

Twice I swallowed with a dry mouth. Thumbwood 
knew what I wanted to ask. 

“The young lady, Sir John, and her maid . . 


THE AIR PIRATE 


53 


“Dead, too?” 

“No, Sir John. They were taken from among all 
the other passengers and put aboard the pirate ship, 
which then flew away with them.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE NEWSPAPERS IN FULL CRY 

Y OU are to imagine, if you please, the private room 
of the Chief Commissioner of Air Police at 
Whitehall. 

A soft Turkey carpet of dull brick-reds and blues 
covers the parquet floor. The walls are hung with 
pictures of famous airmen of the past, inventors, fight- 
ers, pioneers of the great commercial service of air- 
liners which now fills the skies and has shrunk the 
planet — for all practical purposes — to a fifth of its 
former size. There are two or three huge writing- 
tables covered with crimson morocco; the chairs are 
thickly padded and luxurious. A range of tall win- 
dows looks down upon the endless stir and movement 
of the wide street, where the nerves of Empire meet 
in one central ganglion. 

Standing by one of these windows is a light-haired 
young man of thirty in a lounge suit of dark blue. 
He wears a rather heavy, carefully-trimmed mus- 
tache, and his face is seamed and furrowed with anx- 
iety and gray from want of rest. 

54 


THE AIR PIRATE 


55 


Thus you see me in London, two days after Thumb- 
wood brought the terrible news to my bedroom in the 
hotel at Plymouth. 

General Sir Hercules Nichelson, Commander-in- 
Chief of the Royal Flying Corps, had been with me 
for half an hour, and was just taking his leave. 

“Then all that is satisfactorily arranged, Sir John,” 
he said. “We shall supplement your patrol ships with 
three war-ships at Plymouth and three at the Scillies. 
They will, of course, be air cruisers, both faster and 
better armed than your boats, and between us both we 
shall put an end to this pest before many days are 
over.” 

“I sincerely trust so,” I said. “And I do not see how 
it is possible that there should be any further out- 
rages. The net will be too close. America, with its 
much greater coastal area, is taking extraordinary 
precautions.” 

“It will be impossible for these devilish scoundrels 
to escape,” the General repeated with confidence — the 
onus of it all was not falling upon him ! — “and now, 
we quite understand one another.” 

“Perfectly, I think, Sir Hercules.” 

“Your chief station officer is to be in full command, 
under you, at each air-port.” 

“It was your suggestion, Sir Hercules, and since it 
came from you, I do think it would be best. My men 


56 


THE AIR PIRATE 


are always patrolling the air-lines. The organization 
is complete already.” 

‘‘Exactly. And as for my fellows, they will be 
proud to serve under such gallant and experienced of- 
ficers as those of the A.P.” 

“It's kind of you to say so.” 

“Not at all. It is the truth. And now, as an older 
man, let me give you a little advice, if I am not taking 
a liberty. Don’t let this affect you too much, Sir 
John. Every sane man knows that neither you nor 
anyone else could have avoided what has happened, or 
have provided against it. It is a great thing to have 
an acute sense of responsibility; I honor you for it. 
But don’t overdo it. I know the strain you are endur- 
ing. Don’t let it go too far. If you were to break 
down now, that would be a final disaster. . . 

The kind, white-haired old man shook me warmly 
by the hand, and left the room. 

Almost immediately young Bickenhall, my private 
secretary, came in. “Here is the morning’s Press, 
sir,” he said, and upon my table he put down various 
columns cut from the journals of that morning — all 
dealing with the sensational and terrible events on the 
Atlantic that were now the common knowledge of the 
world. 

I sat down to glance through them — I was keeping 
an iron grip upon myself these times — in order to 
gage public opinion. It occurs to me that, in order to 


THE AIR PIRATE 


57 


acquaint you with the progress of events from my 
awakening at Plymouth till the morning of which I 
speak, I cannot do better than quote a paragraph here 
and there from the daily papers. It will bring us up 
to date more quickly and concisely than in any other 
way. 

This, then, from one of the leading London journals, 
a weighty, somewhat ponderous sheet, with consider- 
able influence: 

. . We have given an account of the first attack 
upon the air-liner Albatros, under command of Cap- 
tain Pring, whose conduct in such a trying situation 
did not deviate from the best traditions of our British 
aviators. Most people would have thought that after 
such a dastardly outrage, the unknown pirate would 
have been content to rest upon his infamous laurels and 
retire to his lair, with the valuable booty he had se- 
cured. But it was not so. With an audacity unpar- 
alleled in the annals of crime, this vulture, on the very 
next night, commits an outrage which, for ferocity 
and daring, makes the first one seem like a mere frolic. 

“It is now possible to disentangle something of the 
truth from the various conflicting stories that have 
reached us, and it is, moreover, confirmed in its essen- 
tial details by the authorities of the Air Police at 
Whitehall, who have issued a guarded statement. 

“It appears that two nights ago the famous air-liner 


THE AIR PIRATE 


58 

'Atlantis left the Plymouth sea-drome about nine in 
the evening. The Captain, Commander Pilot Swain- 
son, was one of the best known and trusted officers in 
the Transatlantic service. He did not anticipate the 
slightest danger. Sir John Custance, Chief Commis- 
sioner of the Air Police of Great Britain, was himself 
at Plymouth, having hurried down from London upon 
receiving news of the first piracy. Sir John insisted 
that the Atlantis should be escorted, for half of her 
journey to America, by the armed Patrol Ship ‘1/ 
under command of Superintendent Pilot-Commander 
Lashmar, D.S.O., himself an officer of great distinc- 
tion. Half-way across the Atlantic the liner was to 
be met by a similar escort of the United States A.P., 
and let us here say that it is difficult to tell what other 
precautions Sir John Custance could have devised. 

“The Atlantis carried the Royal Mail and a full 
complement of passengers, among whom were some 
distinguished names. Mr. Bootfeller, of the United 
States Senate, Mr. Greenwell, the well-known pub- 
lisher, the Duke of Perth, and ‘Walty Priest/ the cine- 
ma ‘star/ were among the men, while in the list of 
ladies was Miss Constance Shepherd, a young actress, 
of whom it is not too much to say that she has endeared 
herself to the British public. 

“About two o’clock in the morning disastrous and 
terrible news began to filter through to the Plymouth 
wireless stations. It can be summarized as follows: 


THE AIR PIRATE 


59 


When not more than two hundred and fifty miles west 
of Ireland, the patrol ship, which was flying three miles 
or so behind the Atlantis , was suddenly attacked by an 
unknown airship. The moon had set, the ten-thou- 
sand-feet level was dark, and the attack was delivered 
without the slightest warning. Patrol Ship No. I was 
instantly disabled by a rain of shells. Captain Lashmar 
was shot dead, and with him perished all of the crew 
except three men, one of whom was so seriously 
wounded that his life is despaired of, the other two 
being only slightly wounded. 

“An utter wreck, the patrol ship was just able to 
descend to the water, where she rested like a wounded 
and dying bird. 

“Meanwhile the unknown ship caught up with the 
Atlantis and commenced — as in the case of the Alba - 
tros — with shooting away her wireless aerials. The 
rudder and stern propeller were then destroyed, and 
the great liner forced to plane to the surface of the 
water. Six masked and armed ruffians went aboard 
of her, and a systematic looting of the ship com- 
menced. Captain Swainson could not bear this. He 
drew a revolver and shot one of the pirates dead. 
Then, calling on his crew to assist him, he made a de- 
termined rush, regardless of consequences. The fight 
was unequal. Captain Swainson was the only defender 
who carried fire-arms, while the robbers were provided 
with heavy automatic pistols. 


60 


THE Am PIRATE 


“Five men of the Atlantis were killed almost in- 
stantly, and the rest cowed, while the systematic rob- 
bery continued. And now, alas ! ‘horrors upon horror’s 
head accumulate ’ Their evil work completed, the 
ruffians sought out Miss Constance Shepherd and her 
maid, Miss Wilson, from among the passengers. These 
unfortunate ladies were forced at the pistol’s mouth 
to embark upon the pirates’ small boat, in which they 
were rowed rapidly to the pirate ship and taken on 
board. The ship then rose from the water and was 
lost to sight. 

“Meanwhile two heroes were at work. On board the 
broken patrol ship two able navigators, Paget and 
Fowles, were wounded, indeed, but not entirely dis- 
abled. Both men had some knowledge of wireless, and 
with superhuman toil, as the hours went on, they con- 
trived to rig up a temporary apparatus which, at last, 
served to send out a brief account of the disaster and 
a call for help. 

“When rescue ships arrived at early dawn, they 
found that the patrol ship had drifted close to the 
Atlantis, and that Dr. Weatherall, the surgeon of the 
liner, had swum aboard the No. i and rendered what 
help he could to the wounded men. 

“Press representatives are at Plymouth, but, so far, 
few of the passengers of the Atlantis have been able, 
and none have been allowed by the authorities, to make 


THE AIR PIRATE 


61 


personal statements for publication. This embargo, 
we are assured, will be removed by this evening. 

“This is a precise account of what has happened. 
We must now turn to the consideration of the situa- 
tion. . . ” 

Another journal, a weekly one this time, headed its 
remarks with a portrait of my unhappy self. Under- 
neath was written: “The Man the Atlantic Pirates 
tricked!” The rag had an immense circulation in all 
the tap rooms of England. 

Well, I would see what the blackguards of the 
country were reading about me. Shrewd young Bick- 
enhall wouldn’t have brought the unclean thing in if 
he hadn’t thought it worth while. I give it for what 
it’s worth : 

“Poor Johnny Custance! You’re up against it good 
and thick to-day, and no mistake, and Paul Pry” — 
this was the signature of the tout who wrote the ar- 
ticle — “can’t say he’s very sorry for you. For some 
time past a little bird has been whispering in the clubs 
that all is not well in the State of Denmark — to wit, 
the office of the Commissioner of Air Police at White- 
hall. The aristocratic young gentlemen who daily con- 
descend to drop into this palatial edifice for an hour 
or two have long held the reputation of being the best 
dressed of all our minor Government officials, and, con- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


sidering the salaries they draw from the public purse, 
this is not surprising. But I have never yet heard that 
they did any work worth mentioning, or, indeed, any- 
thing to justify their precious and beautiful existence. 

“Flying Police we must have, and never has the 
necessity for them been greater than at this moment; 
but there is a vast deal of difference from the handy 
pilot of a patrol ship at Plymouth or Portland and the 
bureaucratic popinjays of Pall Mall. 

“Sir John Custance, Bart., is the typical Govern- 
ment official of the musical comedy or the comic paper. 
He is an aristocrat who, after a short experience in the 
air, is shoved into the highly-paid and responsible posi- 
tion he holds without any reason that the man in the 
street can understand. A baronet, and, if report speaks 
truly, a man of considerable private means, I have — • 
in common with many other people — often asked my- 
self what possible qualification this young gentleman 
can have for his job. Johnny is a most estimable 
person, no doubt, in private life. I have heard it re- 
marked that his mustache is one of the most perfect 
things in the West End of London, and he is frequently 
to be seen adorning a stall or box at the Parthenon 
Theatre. But few people have ever taken him serious- 
ly as the head of our Air Police, and now nobody will.” 
« 

There was a row of stars here, as if Mr. Paul Pry 


THE AIR PIRATE 


63 


paused for breath, or was stopping to pick up another 
handful of mud, and then he went on again : 

“If the nation is called upon to pay thousands and 
thousands a year for the upkeep of an efficient service 
of Air Police, it is entitled to see that it gets it, and 
that the man in charge is able to provide it. What 
has happened? A crew of murdering ruffians in an 
airship have looted two of our greatest air-liners, 
slaughtered several people, kidnapped one of our most 
popular actresses, and escaped scot-free. Vanished 
into the wide! While Sir John Custance twiddles his 
thumbs in Whitehall and calls upon the air forces of 
the Admiralty and War Office to supplement his own 
miserably inefficient organization. 

“As usual, we are not without some very special 
and exclusive information in this office. My readers 
know from past experience that their Paul is not easily 
caught napping. I believe that I shall have some^ 
thing to say that will startle everyone in next week’s 
number, though, for certain reasons, I cannot be more 
explicit at present. Before concluding these remarks, 
however, I must say a word or two about the extra- 
ordinary and sinister disappearance of delightful 
Constance Shepherd. Sad as it is to hear of brave 
men shot down while doing their duty, there is some- 
thing peculiarly terrible in the carrying off of the 
little lady to whom London owes so much. Dear little 


64 * 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Connie! We of Bohemia knew and loved you well! 
Many is the happy hour that Paul Pry has spent in 
your company, many the bumper of bubbly water he 
has quaffed to your success! 

“No one could possibly have foreseen such a tragic 
ending to the American journey which Miss Shep- 
herd set out upon with such high hopes. And yet, 
there was not wanting a slight shadow of premonition. 
Only a week ago she said to me: ‘Paul, I’m not so 
sure, after all, that everything will go well. There 

are certain things. I can’t tell you of them I * * * * * * * 9 But 

I must refrain from betraying a confidence. Let it 
be enough to say that my little friend had her mo- 
ments of dejection, when she was not entirely happy 
about the future.” 

I put down the paper and rang for Bickenhall. 

“You’ve read this, I suppose?” I asked, pointing 
to it. 

He nodded. “Lies, of course,” he said; “mere 

words to fill up the column.” 

“No doubt. Still, the man hints all sorts of things, 

damn him ! And one can’t neglect any possible clue.” 

I was in a raging fury, and Bickenhall saw it, though 
he was far from suspecting the true cause. 

“The office is in the Strand,” he said, “three minutes 

by taxi. I’ll go and interview this Paul Pry and put 
the fear of God into him.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


65 


I knew my Bickenhall. He is an energetic and 
hefty young man, and though I had little hopes that 
he would discover anything of value, I had a shrewd 
suspicion that Mr. Paul Pry was about to experience 
a peculiarly unpleasant ten minutes. 

I was right in both my conjectures. 

The secretary returned in half an hour. “Just a 
ramp,” he said. “1 found a greasy ruffian smelling of 
gin in a back room, and frightened him out of his 
life. He’s never met Miss Shepherd, and has no pri- 
vate information whatever. Will apologize in any 
manner you like.” 

I am not going to bother you with what the journal- 
ists wrote. There were hundreds of columns of sug- 
gestions, conjecture, reproof, alarm, and so forth. 
On the whole my department was let down fairly 
lightly, and I was glad. Please don’t think that I cared 
twopence for myself. I did not. But I should have 
bitterly resented any serious reflections on my staff, 
officers and men, who were, and are, as able and loyal 
a body as can be found anywhere in the world. 


CHAPTER V 


THE FAMILIAR SPIRIT OF MR. VAN ADAMS 
T mid-day I had an appointment with the Home 



1 -L Secretary. He received me with the utmost 
kindness, and we had half an hour of highly confi- 
dential talk. The purport of it will appear later. 
This is not the place for it. 

Towards the end I informed him that I had a re- 
quest to make. 

“Tell me,” he answered at once, “and let me repeat 
that the Government has every confidence in you, Sir 
John. Don’t take this too hardly, I beg of you.” 

I had a sudden impulse. “I trust,” I said, “that 
my anxiety for the public welfare is in no degree over- 
shadowed by a private sorrow. Indeed, I am sure 
that it isn’t. But, if I may speak in confidence, I 
should like you to know, sir, that I was engaged to 
be married to Miss Constance Shepherd.” 

There was a perceptible silence. I heard the great 
man take a long inward breath, and murmur to him- 
self, “Poor fellow !” Then he did the right, the quite 


66 


THE AIR PIRATE 67 

perfect thing: he stretched out his hand, and took 
mine in a firm, warm grasp. 

When I could speak, I returned to business. 

“My request, sir, is this. I want to disappear for a 
month.” 

“Disappear, Sir John?” 

“That’s what it amounts to. Practically, I am go- 
ing to ask for four weeks’ leave of absence. It must 
be private, though. If the news were published the 
public would misunderstand, and think I was desert- 
ing my post in a time of difficulty and danger.” 

“Whereas?” 

“Whereas I want to investigate this affair in my 
own way. I believe that the theories of the Press 
and public, and also those of Scotland Yard — with 
whom I have been in consultation — are quite wrong. 
Nor do my communications with America give me 
any reason to change my opinion. This is a matter 
of life and death to me. I owe the Government, who 
have promoted me so rapidly to the high position 
I occupy, a solution of this mystery. I owe them and 
the public that the fiends who have committed these 
outrages should be brought to justice. And, if God 
allows me, I will do it. My honor and that of my 
department are at stake. Those two things come be- 
fore anything else. In addition, I have the private rea- 
sons of which I have told you. And, in order to suc- 
ceed, I am persuaded that my way is the only way.” 


68 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“You have certainly the strongest motives a man 
well could have to urge you on. But can you be a 
little more explicit ?” 

“I want to leave Mr. Muir Lockhart in charge at 
the office. He is perfectly capable of taking charge. 
He has everything at his fingers’ ends. And I shall 
arrange that he can always communicate with me at 
any time.” 

The Home Secretary thought for a moment, and 
drummed with his fingers on the arm of his chair. 
He had been a famous barrister, and renowned for 
the perfection of his turn-out. His finger-nails were 
pink and polished as the light fell upon them, and I 
wondered if he had them manicured. 

Then he looked up. “Very well, do as you like,” 
he said suddenly. “I take it that you know what 
you’re about. And heartfelt good wishes for your 
success.” 

. . . This is how I plunged into a series of dan- 
gerous adventures, a dark underworld of crime and 
almost superhuman cunning, probably without parallel 
in modern times. 

Arrangements were soon made at Whitehall. Muir 
Lockhart was an understanding man, and by three 
o’clock in the afternoon I walked out into the sun- 
shine free from all official cares for a month. I took 
a long, deep breath as I crossed the Horse Guards 
Parade and made my way to the long, green vista of 


THE AIR PIRATE 


69 


the Mall. “The first act is over,” I thought “The 
curtain is rising on the real drama. Somewhere in 
this world there is a man whose discovery and death 
I owe to Society and to myself.” 

I have given you but little indication of my mental 
state during the last few days. It won’t bear much 
writing about even now. A cold fury, instead of 
blood, came and went in my veins, and my heart was 
ice. Every now and again, especially when I was 
alone, agony for which there is, there can be, no 
name got hold of me, and sported with me as the wind 
sports with a leaf. I suppose I had a tiny foretaste 
of what is felt by a soul that is eternally damned. 
I dared not think too much of Constance and her fate. 
If I had let myself go that way the running waters 
would have risen and overwhelmed me utterly. But, 
thank God, my intellect held. The streak of hardness 
which had served me so well in my career, and had 
enabled me to push to the top at an early age, came 
to the rescue now. Every faculty was sharpened ; the 
will concentrated to a single purpose. I was alone, 
and I walked in darkness, but I was conscious of 
Power — charged to the brim as a battery is charged 
with the electric fluid. As I walked calmly up St. 
James’, on the way to my chambers, I doubt if a 
more single-minded and dangerous man than I walked 
the streets of London. 

And I knew, by some mysterious intuition, that 


70 


THE AIR PIRATE 


I should succeed in the task before me. I had not, 
as yet, more than the most rudimentary idea how I 
was going to set about it, but I should succeed. Don’t 
misunderstand me. I had hardly any hope of seeing 
my dear love alive again. I believed that all the joy 
of life was finally extinguished. But justice — call 
it vengeance rather — remained, and I was as sure that 
I was the chosen instrument of that as I was that I 
had just passed between Marlborough House and the 
Palace of St. James. 

My expensive but delightful chambers in Half 
Moon Street were on the second floor — sitting-room, 
dining-room, bed and dressing rooms and bath. 

The sitting-room was paneled in cedar-wood, which 
had been stained a delicate olive-green, with the mold- 
ings of the panels picked out in dull gold. Connie and 
her gay young friends, when they came to have tea 
with me, or supper after the theater, used to say that 
it was one of the most charming rooms in London. 

I had spent an infinity of time and money on it, 
determined that it should be “just so.” For instance, 
the carpet was from Kairowan in Tunisia, and had 
taken a whole family of Arab weavers five years 
to make. Never was there a more perfect blue — not 
the crude peacock color of the cheaper Oriental rugs, 
but a blue infused with a silver-ash shade, contrast- 
ing marvelously with the warm brick-reds and tawny 
yellows. It was a bargain at four hundred pounds. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


71 


I had hung only half a dozen pictures in this room, 
all modern and all good. My “Boys Bathing, ,, by 
Charles Conder — better known as the painter of mar- 
velous fans — was a masterpiece of sunlight and sea 
foam which made me the envy of half the collectors 
in town. Then I had a William Nicholson — “Chelsea 
Ware” — that was extraordinarily fascinating. It was 
just some old Chelsea plates and a jug standing on a 
table. It doesn’t sound fascinating, I know, but the 
painting was so brilliant, there was such vision in 
the way it was seen, that one could look at it for hours. 

There was an open hearth of rough red brick in 
the room, deep and square, and when there was a fire 
it burned in a gipsy brazier of iron. I had a lot of 
trouble to get this last of the right shape, and finally 
it had to be made for me, from the design of an 
artist in Birmingham. 

Such a room, with its perfect color harmonies and 
severe lines, required no knick-knacks. Nothing small 
or petty, however beautiful in itself, could be allowed 
there. I had two cabinets of magnificent china in my 
dining-room, but china would have been quite out of 
place here. Along one wall, about four feet from the 
floor, was a single shelf of old pewter — cups and 
flagons of the Tudor period with the double-rose hall- 
mark — and that was all. 

As I entered and flung myself wearily into a chair, 
the afternoon sunlight poured in through the half- 


72 


THE AIR PIRATE 


drawn curtains of sea-green silk. In the ceiling a 
hidden electric fan was whirring, and the room was 
deliciously cool. And as I looked round, the place 
seemed hateful beyond all expression. I was sick of 
it, loathed its beauty and comfort; an insane desire 
came to take a hammer and wreak havoc there as my 
eyes fell on the only photograph in the room. It was 
one of Constance, in a frame of dull silver, studded 
with turquoises, and she had given it to me no longer 
than a fortnight ago. 

Thumbwood slept at the top of the house. He came 
in, after I had been resting for a few minutes. 

“Eve made the necessary arrangements, Charles,” 
I said, “and we shall start operations at once.” I had 
no secrets from this devoted friend and servant. 

“Glad to hear it, Sir John. I’ve been round the 
town this morning, and there’s a lot of talk.” 

He followed me into the sitting-room and brought 
me cigars. 

“You see,” he went on confidentially, “a gentle- 
man’s servant, especially if he belongs to the club 
just off Jermyn Street, and more specially still if he’s 
been a racing man, hears all that’s going on quicker 
than anyone. This morning I’ve been talking to the 
porters and valets of two of the best clubs, Sir John. 
Then I ’ad a crack with Meggit, the bookmaker, what 
does all the St. James’ smaller commissions, and after 
that I strolled to the Parthenon Theatre, and took 


THE AIR PIRATE 


73 


out the stage door-keeper and filled him up and made 
’im talk a bit. ’Im and me is great friends consequent 
of my taking so many messages and flowers for you, 
sir, when Miss Shepherd was acting there.” 

“Ah! I see you haven’t wasted your time.” I 
smiled inwardly at Thumbwood’s idea of helping me. 

“No, Sir John. I’ve learned a lot of funny little 
things, just trifles, so to say, but they may prove useful 
later on. There’s one thing you ought to know at once. 
Them theatricals have been talking, and it’s all over 
town that Miss Shepherd traveled down to Plymouth 
with you. It’s certain to be in the papers this after- 
noon, if it ain’t already. There’s been half a dozen 
reporters buzzing round the theater this morning.” 

I ground my teeth with anger, but only for a mo- 
ment. Of course, the thing was inevitable. There 
was only one thing to do. 

I took up the telephone on the writing-table and 
got put on to the Evening Wire. “I am Sir John Cus- 
tance,” I said to the editor. “I hear that there is a 
good deal of talk going about London in respect 
of Miss Constance Shepherd and myself. To avoid 
the least misconception, I authorize you to state, in 
your next edition, that Miss Shepherd and I were en- 
gaged to be married. I’ll send my servant down to 
your office at once, with a note confirming this con- 
versation.” 

It was the only way, much as I hated it, to stop 


74 THE AIR PIRATE 

malicious gossip, and I scribbled a chit to the editor. 

“Get into a taxi and take that at once,” I said to 
Thumbwood. As I gave him the letter, there was a 
ring at the front-door bell. 

The little man went out and I heard voices, one 
harsh and deep, that seemed familiar. 

“Who is it?” I asked as Charles returned. “I can’t 
see anyone. . . 

“Wouldn’t take any denial, sir. It’s the American 
gentleman who picked up Captain Pring after the at- 
tack on the Albatros. Says he must see you.” 

“Mr. Van Adams?” 

“Yes, Sir John.” 

“Show him in.” 

A moment afterwards I was shaking hands with 
the thickset man whose jaw was like a pike’s and 
whose eyes resembled animated steel. Thumbwood 
went off with the letter. I heard the front door close 
after him. 

Now I don’t suppose at that moment I would have 
seen any other man in London unconnected with my 
office at Whitehall. I didn’t want to see the million- 
aire, but directly he was inside the room my irritation 
vanished. He had meant to see me. He had now 
accomplished his end, and I had a firm conviction that 
sentries with fixed bayonets wouldn’t have kept him 
out. 

He sat down quietly in the chair I indicated, and 


THE AIR PIRATE 


75 


took a cigar with great deliberation. I was not in 
the least impatient. I knew now that I was glad that 
he had come, and waited for him to begin. When he 
did speak the harsh voice was considerably modified, 
and no one whatever could have said that he was an 
American. 

“Any success I may have made in life,” he said 
without preliminary, “has come from the faculty of 
judging men. I started, as a youth, with this power 
in a more than ordinary degree. I’ve been develop- 
ing it ever since.” 

He puffed thoughtfully at his cigar. He had said 
this with calm determination, not in the least as if he 
were speaking of himself, but merely as a man stating 
a fact which would be useful a little later on. 

For my part I said nothing. I felt as though I was 
playing a sort of decorous game with rigid rules. To 
speak then would be to revoke! 

“. . . And, though the ordinary man does not 
like to hear such a statement, I have a pretty good 
idea of you, Sir John. You’re not an ordinary man. 
That’s why I’m here. I’ll put it in two words. I want 
to help you. I can help you. It is for you to say if 
you want me.” 

Now there could only be one answer to a question 
like that. The man in my arm-chair was one of the 
most powerful men on earth. Moreover, his reputa- 


76 


THE AIR PIRATE 


tion stood high. He was no financial pirate. The 
whole world trusted him. 

“I answer that, Mr. Van Adams, with a single 
word : Thank you.” 

He nodded as if pleased. “Quite!” he said, and 
then, half turning in his chair, “of course, I don’t ask 
you to tell me any official secrets. . . 

I laughed at that. The Government would have let 
this man know all there was to be known upon his 
simple request. 

He saw that I understood. “There are none for 
one thing,” I told him. “You know exactly as much 
as my department knows, as I told the Home Secre- 
tary this morning. There are no developments, except, 
of course, the protective measures we and the States 
are taking. The one thing I can tell you, and which 
is in strict confidence, is that I have arranged for my 
official duties to be carried on by my assistant for a 
month. From this afternoon I am absolutely free to 
do what I like and go where I like. No one will 
know of this but my confidential servant. I intend 
to devote this evening to mapping out a plan of 
campaign.” 

“That’s good, Sir John. That is just what I wanted 
to hear. Let me explain my motives. They are not 
complicated. One is that, as one of the chief money- 
brokers of the world, I naturally want to prevent any 
financial panic. Next, I am a bit of a sportsman in 


THE AIR PIRATE 


77 


my way. I like hunting things down. This pursuit 
appeals to me a good deal. And, last — when I was 
five-and-thirty, a desperate gang of crooks in San 
Francisco kidnapped my little daughter Pearl — she 
that is Duchess of Shropshire now — and held her up. to 
ransom. It was before you took notice, for I’m close 
on seventy, but the episode created some considerable 
stir at the time. I can pretty well guess what you are 
going through now.” 

As he looked at me his eyes were no longer like 
living steel, nor his jaw like a pike’s. 

So he also knew! I mumbled something or other. 

“Quite,” he answered quickly, and then went on: 
“In thinking over various ways in which I could be 
of use I have come to a certain conclusion. Money, 
I suppose, won’t help you — though, of course, any 
sum is available ?” 

“I have the Government behind me, and I myself 
am not poor, thank you.” 

“It is as I thought. In England I myself can do 
nothing personally that others cannot do as well. In 
America I have every sort of influence. . . .” 

I looked him in the face. “I am not going to trouble 
about America in the very least.” 

“Quite! I see what you mean. And I am abso- 
lutely of your opinion. Now I’ll come to what I can 
do for you.” 


78 


THE AIR PIRATE 


He rose slowly from his chair and came up to me. 
When he spoke he had dropped his voice a full tone. 

“I must let you into one or two little secrets about 
myself,” he said. “In the first place, a man so rich as 
I am does not become so without making powerful and 
unscrupulous enemies. Also, American methods are 
direct. It will probably surprise you to hear that my 
life has been attempted twelve or fifteen times, but 
that is the case. Some of the methods were diaboli- 
cally ingenious, too! However, I stand here to-day, 
quite unharmed and quite safe. Why? I’ll tell you. 

“Quite early in my successful career I saw what 
would happen. I watched other men assassinated, and 
was determined that it shouldn’t happen to me. How 
was it to be avoided? I thought that point out very 
carefully, and came to a conclusion. I must find, and 
then attach to my person, someone of extraordinary 
intelligence, cunning, skill and personal prowess. My 
ambitions ran high. I wanted someone who would 
devote his whole life to my service, a familiar spirit, 
no less ! It took me three years of steady work to find 
that familiar spirit — to discover the exact combina- 
tion of qualities I required. But a multi-millionaire 
is the Magician of to-day, and I have a Genie as clever 
and infallible as any out of the old 'Arabian Nights/ 
I pay him the salary of a cinema star, and I say, mean- 
ing every word of it, that there isn’t another like him 
in the world. Do you think this tall talk, Sir John?” 


THE AIR PIRATE 79 

It was certainly amazing, but I could not but believe 
him. 

“You startle and you interest me deeply,” I replied. 
“You are to be congratulated.” 

“I am — on a unique human possession. Well, you 
can’t have failed to see what I’m driving at. I will 
lend you this man, place his services entirely at your 
disposal, for a month !” 

For a moment or two I was silent. I believed every 
word that Van Adams said, and I was not hesitating 
— only just letting the offer, and what it meant, sink 
into my mind. It became plain. It was like the offer 
of a rope-ladder to a man in prison, a light and a 
pickax to an entombed miner. 

“It is the most generous offer I’ve ever heard of, 
Mr. Van Adams. I can’t express my thanks. You 
really mean this?” 

“I do. And as an ounce of proof is worth a ton 
of talk — allow me to introduce you to Mr. Danjuro!” 

He turned round as he spoke and I with him. Then 
I gave a cry of astonishment, which I could not have 
kept back to save my life. 

Standing some yard or so away was a little Japanese 
gentleman, not much more than five feet high. He 
wore gold pince-nez, a neat blue lounge suit and brown 
boots. There was nothing noticeable about him in 
any way, except an unusually fine cranial development 


80 


THE AIR PIRATE 


— a massive forehead and a great space between the 
corners of the dark eyes and the ears. 

“Good heavens, how did he get here?” I said. 

Van Adams laughed. “I daresay he’ll tell you; I 
don’t know,” he answered. “I just told him to be here. 
I wanted to give you an object lesson, in fact. Now, 
Mr. Danjuro knows all that I know. You can trust 
him absolutely. He knows what is in front of him, 
and he knows where to find me when I’m wanted. 
Now I’ll leave you together and say good-afternoon.” 

He was gone almost before I could thank him. 


CHAPTER VI 


MR. DANJURO, THINKING MACHINE, EXPLAINS 
HIMSELF 

ON’T you sit down?” I said foolishly. 



The little Japanese bowed politely and did so. 


I was at a loss what to say. My mind was in a 
whirl. I wanted to laugh, to call Van Adams back, 
but my dominating sensation was one of supreme 
annoyance. So this natty, commonplace little Asiatic 
wa9 the millionaire’s “familiar spirit” ! He was 
unique, was he ! I cursed myself for several kinds of 
fool to have saddled myself with this amazing stranger 
at the beginning of my work. At any rate, I reflected 
irritably, as I sat down opposite, I could easily send 
him off on some wild-goose chase or another. . . . 

Yes! I was never more annoyed in my life, and 
my annoyance lasted for exactly sixty seconds. With- 
out the slightest embarrassment of any sort, and with 
no preliminaries at all, Mr. Danjuro plunged into 
business. His voice was clear and low. He had no 
accent of any kind, though his English was a trifle 


8l 


82 


THE AIR PIRATE 


pedantic and scholarly. He spoke as impersonally 
as a gramophone. 

“. . . I am entirely with you, Sir John, in your 
opinion that it is not in the United States of America, 
but here — in England — that we shall solve the mys- 
tery surrounding this dark business.” 

“But I never said . . .” 

He smiled faintly, almost wearily. “And since I 
have the great honor to be associated with you, I 
trust you will allow me to suggest a plan of campaign/’ 

“I was going to try and think one out to-night.” 

“It is a privilege to assist. I have come in contact 
with many crafty and malignant criminals during the 
last thirty years, but here one detects a master. It 
will be a pleasure indeed to hunt him down. Have I 
your honorable permission to smoke?” 

With one hand he produced a square of rice paper 
and a pinch of tobacco from his pocket, and rolled 
a cigarette on his knee like a conjuring trick. He had 
not raised his voice, but a sudden gleam came into 
the oblique black eyes which suggested the deep but 
hidden ferocity of his race. 

He resumed. “From all I have gathered, and I 
have talked much with Captain Pring, Mr. Rickaby 
and the passengers of the Albatros , we have to look 
for a man who is (i) an aviator in the first rank; (2) 
an inventor and mechanical genius, or able to command 


THE AIR PIRATE 


the services of such; (3) a person of some wealth or 
able to procure money.” 

I followed him completely and said so. From what 
we already knew these deductions were perfectly fair 
ones. 

“I thank you. Now we come to the man himself. 
I believe him to be a person of education, and one 
who has held a good social position. He is also des- 
perate in his circumstances, and a person to whom ma- 
terial pleasure is the highest good.” 

“Rickaby said that the men who came aboard the 
Albatros spoke like educated people.” 

“Yes. Our field of search already begins to grow 
narrower. Am I right in saying that every aviator 
in this country must pass an examination and be 
licensed before he is allowed to fly?” 

“It is so. All aviators, professional or amateur, 
must have a license from the Air Police. This is 
registered. I have already had the records for the 
past ten years searched at Whitehall. But this has 
yielded no result. There is no one who could possibly 
be our man.” 

“It was well thought of, Sir John, if I may say 
so. But in my opinion we shall have to go back a good 
deal further than ten years. We now come to the 
question of the pirate airship itself and its peculiar 
qualities. Let us fix upon one — the silence of its 
engines. I am aware that the constructors of motor 


84 


THE AIR PIRATE 


engines have been busy upon this problem for years.” 

“And with little result. The problem has not been 
solved.” 

“Except by our unknown friends. I have already 
examined all the recent patents of silencing devices at 
your patent office here. I spent yesterday morning 
there, and found nothing. The significance of that is 
obvious. Any ordinary inventor who had discovered 
something of such importance would protect it at once. 
We can therefore make up our minds that in no regu- 
lar motor-engineering works throughout this country 
has the complete silencer been evolved. It would be 
impossible for the most brilliant inventor to keep such 
a thing entirely to himself.” 

“Again the field shrinks?” 

“Yes, Sir John. We now have a man of the char- 
acter already indicated, who, as he has undoubtedly 
constructed silent engines, must have done so in secret. 
He must have had private engineering works in order 
to make an important part of his machines. The 
point is, where? On the Continent? I think not. 
He would be watched far more carefully than in this 
country. America is still more unlikely. Let us as- 
sume England. Having done so, we can, I think, 
safely deduce that for obvious reasons this man and 
his confederates — for we know he has them — would 
endeavor to build his pirate ship as near as possible 
to the place he intended to use as the base of his 


THE AIR PIRATE 


85 


operations. And that base — if your experience bears 
me out — is certainly somewhere or other on the coast?” 

‘‘Of course, one would say that it must be so, Mr. 
Danjuro. And yet it seems impossible. The whole 
coast of England is patrolled by the coastguards. For 
all practical purposes England is no bigger than a 
pocket-handkerchief. I thought of Scotland and the 
Northern Isles. I thought of wild places on the Irish 
coast. I have had a fleet of airships surveying and 
photographing these places for the last two days. No 
hangar bigger than a motor-shed could have escaped 
their notice. All the land police of the villages round 
the coasts have been interrogated by Scotland Yard. 
Nothing, nothing whatever has been seen.” 

I spoke with some passion, for I felt it. The sense 
t>f impotence was maddening. 

The Japanese rolled another cigarette. As he did 
so the door opened and Thumbwood came in. 

“I delivered your note, Sir John, and the editor’s 
compliments and thanks.” 

“Charles,” I said, “this gentleman here is Mr. Dan- 
juro. He is going to help us. Mr. Danjuro is” — I 
hesitated for a moment, really it was difficult to de- 
scribe him ! — “is one of the foremost detectives in the 
world !” 

Thumbwood’s hand went up to his forehead in the 
stable boy’s salute. Then, as he saw my guest full- 
face, he started. “I saw you this morning, sir,” he 


86 


THE AIR PIRATE 


said. “You were talking to old Mrs. Jessop, the 
dresser at the Parthenon Theatre. It was in the 
‘Blue Dragon/ just round the comer by the stage- 
door.” 

“And you were with the stage-door keeper. A 
curious coincidence/’ Mr. Danjuro replied, with his 
weary smile, and at a look from me Thumbwood, 
very puzzled indeed, left the room. 

“I spent part of this morning at the Parthenon 
Theatre, Sir John. Your servant apparently thought 
of doing the same thing. A man of considerable 
acumen? — I imagined so. To proceed. Now that 
we have cleared away a few preliminary obstructions, 
we arrive at a point which I regard as of great signifi- 
cance. You are engaged — I speak of intimate mat- 
ters, but purely in my character of a consultant — to 
Miss Constance Shepherd, a young lady of beauty and 
celebrity.” 

. . . Confound the fellow, he spoke of Connie as 
if she were a fish !' 

“That is so,” I told him. 

“That young lady was kidnapped by the unknown 
airman. From among all the passengers she and her 
maid were singled out. Now that fact — upon which 
you must have already pondered considerably — is a 
key fact. Was it done for the purpose of holding this 
lady up to ransom? I see the suggestion has been 
made in the Press. I answer no. In the first place, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


87 


it would be altogether too dangerous a game, and the 
attempt would certainly lead to discovery. Secondly, 
there were other people on board who would have 
been more profitable prey. The Duke of Perth, for 
instance, or the cinema actor who receives sixty thou- 
sand pounds a year. Now it is extremely improbable 
that in the rush and excitement of the attack and rob- 
bery of the Atlantis , the pirate leader was suddenly 
struck by a pretty face. Indeed, we know from ac- 
counts of the passengers that Miss Shepherd was de- 
liberately searched for. That indicates with certainty 
that the pirate knew she was on board, and had a de- 
sign of capturing her. In its turn, this predicates 
a former acquaintance, and undoubtedly, a repulse in 
the past. Hence my inquiries and my interview with 
the theater dresser this morning.” 

I astonished that little man. It was the first and 
last time. Leaping up in my chair, I believe I shouted 
like a madman. At any rate, Thumbwood was inside 
the room before I could find words to speak. 

Something had flashed upon me, white-hot and sud- 
den, as an electric advertisement flashes out upon one 
at night. It was something that I had entirely and 
utterly forgotten until now. 

“There was a man,” I gasped, “a scoundrel who had 
been annoying Miss Shepherd for a long time. He 
wanted to marry her. She told me of it. And he was 
once a Celebrated dying man!” 


88 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“Long ago, in the Great War,” said Danjuro calmly. 
“Major Helzephron, V.C. I was aware of it.” 

“And one of the boys if ever there was one, sir!” 
Thumbwood broke in. “Warned off the course every- 
where. I’ve got a bit of information, too!” 

I stared at them, trembling with excitement. And 
then reality, like a cold douche of water, brought me 
to my senses. Of course, it was impossible. The 
thing was a mere coincidence. Why, while the first 
ship — the Albatros — had been attacked, this man, Hel- 
zephron, was in London! He had traveled west in 
the same train with me and Connie. 

“May I ask exactly what you know, Sir John?” 

... I told Danjuro precisely what had happened 
at Paddington and how Connie herself had ex- 
plained it. 

He listened to me in attentive silence. When I had 
finished, I saw that a small leather pocketbook had 
appeared in his hands — everything that the fellow did 
had the uncanny effect of a clever trick — and he was 
turning over the leaves. 

“So far,” he began, “in the consideration of this 
problem we have been eliminating impossibilities, or 
improbabilities so strong that they amount to that. 
This has left us with a small residuum of fact, un- 
proved fact, but sufficient to work from. One thing 
emerges clearly. It is the nature and personality of 
our unknown friend. It is not too much to say that 


THE AIR PIRATE 


89 


he must be very like what we have imagined him to be. 
A certain person appears dimly on the scene — this 
Major Helzephron. Let us see how his personality 
squares with the personality we have been deducing. 
Mr. Thumbwood has apparently collected some infor- 
mation. I have done so, too. Let us pool results !” 
He looked at Charles, who blushed. 

“Out with it, Charles; you’ve done splendidly,” I 
said. 

“Well, Sir John, I found out that this gentleman is 
a pretty bad wrong-’un, judging by the company he 
keeps. And he used to annoy Miss Shepherd some- 
thing chronic. He’d wait at the stage-door and try 
and speak to her when she got into the car after the 
performance, and he was always leaving notes and 
flowers with the stage-door keeper. Miss Shepherd 
would never take them. She always sent them back 
from her room. It got so bad at last that she com- 
plained to the stage manager, and he had a plain 
clothes man from Vine Street there one night. Major 
Helzephron was told off pretty plainly, I hear. He 
used to come very nasty sometimes, and once or twice 
he was fair blotto! And Mr. Meggit, the commis- 
sion agent, knows him well. He’s done a lot of rac- 
ing in his time, and no open scandal. But he knows 
how to work the market, and the best men won’t lay 
him the odds no more.” 

I shrugged my shoulders. It was only what one 


90 


THE AIR PIRATE 


expected. The man was one of the fast blackguards 
who infest the West End of London; that was all. 
There were dozens like him. The facts only seemed 
to prove that he could not possibly be connected with 
the Atlantic outrages. 

“You see?” I said to the Japanese, sure that he 
would follow my thought. Then I thanked good little 
Charles and he left the room. 

“That is the surface, ,, Danjuro replied. “I cross- 
examined a woman who was in constant attendance on 
Miss Shepherd. From her I learnt just what your 
servant has discovered. But I went a little deeper. It 
is a case of genuine overmastering passion on the part 
of this man. Nothing less. He is of a dangerous 
age for that to come to him, certainly over forty-five 
years. A woman knows. But that is not all.” 

“So far we have learnt nothing of importance.” 
I was getting restive, I wanted to be doing something. 
And yet, what was there to do? If I had thought all 
night by myself I could not have mapped out the situ- 
ation more clearly. And as I looked at the little man, 
half lost in a big saddle-bag chair, I felt ashamed of 
my irritation. A brain packed in ice was there, a 
logical machine of the first order. I could not ex- 
pect humanity, sympathy, from such a one. Still, it 
would have helped ! Hadn’t I lost the one thing that 
made life worth living? What might not be hap- 
pening to Connie even now? 


THE AIR PIRATE 91 

. . . He read my thoughts like a book, confound 
him! 

‘‘I understand your feelings, believe me, Sir John,” 
he said, “but I must go my own way. We have not 
been talking for an hour yet! And if it is any conso- 
lation for you to know, let me say that it is imperative 
that we leave London to-night.” 

“My nerves are strained. Please go on,” I answered. 
“I can hardly tell you what a godsend your appearance 
on the scene really is to me.” 

“In my business as agent and guard to my patron, 
Mr. Van Adams, it is always necessary that I keep 
more or less in touch with a certain circle of what 
I may describe as the aristocracy, the brains of Inter- 
national Crime. It has proved useful. After my 
visit to the Parthenon this morning I called upon an 
old acquaintance, the Honorable James Brookfield.” 

“Lord Slidon’s son? The man who got five 
years . . .” 

“Yes. Of course, everyone knows his name. He 
made one little slip. Mr. Brookfield is very acute, 
and a great student of character. Entirely incapable 
of understanding a man or woman of decent morals 
and normal instincts, he is infallible in his judgment 
of the criminal type. Mr. Brookfield owes me any 
little service he can render, and I supplemented my 
request for information with a note for fifty pounds.” 

“And you learnt ... ?” 


92 


THE AIR PIRATE 


‘That Major Helzephron is all we have just heard, 
but a far more sinister and formidable person than 
anyone suspects. He is a man of marked intellectual 
powers. Below the veneer of coarse pleasures and 
fast life in London and Paris, there is something that 
glows like a hot coal. His appearances in town are 
irregular and fitful. His real life, Brookfield is cer- 
tain of this, is lived far away from cities. And it is 
a life with a purpose.” 

Quite suddenly and unexpectedly Mr. Danjuro be- 
gan to reveal himself. 

The last words were spoken in a changed voice. 
The flatness and monotony had vanished. The words 
vibrated in the room, and I felt the thrill of them. 
It was the power of personality, and from then on- 
wards I was hand in glove with this bizarre thinking 
machine that Fate had sent me. 

I tried to emulate Danjuro’s dispassionate and 
scientific method. 

“It is curious/’ I said, “that a real intellect should 
care to spend part of its time in rake-helling round 
the low clubs, the gambling-rooms and stage-doors of 
London. Such a thing is known, but it is rare.” 

“You put your finger instantly upon what seems a 
weak spot in my character sketch. But let us assume 
that it has been done with a deep motive.” 

“Ah!” He knew, or suspected, something more. 
He referred to his notebook. 


THE AIR PIRATE 93 

“Two years ago a certain Mr. Herbert Gascoigne 
was expelled from Christ Church College, Oxford.” 

“Sent down, we call it; but go on.” 

“The case was a bad one. The young man had 
established a sort of gambling club and ruined several 
of his contemporaries. It was discovered that he was 
using a roulette wheel that had been tampered with. 
He came to London and drifted into the worst gang 
of swindlers. Major Helzephron met him. They be- 
came very friendly. The younger man was obviously 
under the influence of the elder. Finally Gascoigne 
deserted his old haunts and has disappeared.” 

I began to see light. 

“On several occasions my astute friend, Mr. Brook- 
field, has witnessed precisely the same phenomenon. 
Some young man of the upper classes has been ruined 
socially, and our enigmatic friend has taken him up, 
been seen about with him, and so forth. Finally the 
young man vanishes.” 

“It is not philanthropy, Mr. Danjuro.” 

“It is not, and it gives rise to curious speculations. 
Where could a Napoleonic criminal, patiently plan- 
ning and meditating a stupendous coup, find a better 
recruiting ground than among the desperate and ruined 
young men of his own class? The plan is in itself 
evidence of genius. They speak his language, he un- 
derstands their way of thought; there are a thousand 
bonds between them. I can conceive no more solid 


94j 


THE AIR PIRATE 


and formidable combination than just this. The one 
last virtue remaining to these desperate and outcast 
young men will be loyalty to their leader. Society 
has cast them out, therefore they will make war on 
Society. Given that attitude of mind, a leader like 
Major Helzephron, and a plan so daring, and the thing 
becomes plain as daylight. And if this man had not 
fallen into an overmastering passion for Miss Shep- 
herd there would have been no means of getting on his 
trail at all.” 

It was only with great difficulty that I could con- 
trol my thoughts. We seemed miles nearer the truth 
than I had been an hour ago. Then one idea emerged 
clearly. 

‘‘Quite so. And isn’t it all in our favor that we, 
and we alone, are in a position to connect Helzephron 
with the piracy? He will think himself perfectly 
secure ?” 

“I do not for a moment believe,” Danjuro replied 
with emphasis, “that a single soul besides ourselves 
has the least suspicion. The man will have taken su- 
preme care to cover his tracks. My inquiries could 
have suggested nothing to the people I interviewed. 
Mr. Brookfield thinks I required my information for 
quite another reason. Yes, Sir John, we have a task 
of immense difficulty and danger before us. You 
must recognize that to the full. My sincere belief is 
that it would be somewhat safer to venture into a 


THE AIR PIRATE 


95 


cage of cobras than where we have to go. But” — 
he took out his watch — “it is five o’clock. Let us 
say that the game begins at this moment! Very well. 
We, and not the enemy, have scored the first point!” 

He suddenly glided from his chair with a single 
sinuous movement. As he stood up he was trans- 
formed. The bland modern look faded from his 
face. It grew terrible. The eyes narrowed to slits 
of light, the square jaw protruded, the gray lips were 
caught up in a tiger-grin, and the slim body seemed 
to swell out with iron muscle like a wrestler stripped 
in the arena. 

You have seen some of the real old Japanese color- 
prints, pictures of the ancient Samurai or the fright- 
ful Akudogi shouting at yon — yes? The flat, awful 
stolidity, the incarnate hate. . . . 

Then you have seen something of what I saw then. 

Wow l Millionaire Van Adams was well served! 


CHAPTER VII 


THE CURIOUS FIGHT IN THE RESTAURANT 

I T is a good deal to ask, Sir John,” said Danjuro 
briskly, “but, for the moment, will you place your- 
self entirely in my hands?” 

“I am perfectly content to do so.” 

“Then permit me to press the bell.” He did so. 

“I left a black bag in the hall,” Danjuro said po- 
litely when Thumbwood came in. “Would you please 
let me have it?” 

The bag was brought. Danjuro placed it on the 
table and opened it. 

“You are very well known, Sir John,” he remarked. 
“Major Helzephron and his friends have either seen 
you at some time or other, or have certainly seen the 
numerous pictures of you that have appeared in the 
newspapers during the last few days. It is imperative 
that you change your appearance at once. I foresaw 
that and have brought materials.” 

I am afraid I whistled with dismay. The idea 
didn't please me in the very least. “Is it really 
necessary? . . .” 


96 


THE AIR PIRATE 


97 


“Absolutely. But it will not inconvenience you. 
Will you go into your bedroom and clip off your 
mustache with scissors, afterwards shaving the upper 
lip clean? You see, the man who leaves London to- 
night must not in the least resemble the Chief Com- 
missioner of Air Police.” 

I went and did it. I had to. When the operation 
was over I shouldn’t have known myself, it made 
such a difference. I never knew that I had such a 
grim and forbidding mouth! 

I returned to the sitting-room. Mr. Danjuro did 
not make the least comment, but he removed my 
collar and tie with the deftness of a barber and fas- 
tened a towel round my neck. Then he sponged my 
skin all over with some faintly pink stuff out of a 
bottle. When he had done that, he began on my hair 
with something else, and finally my eyebrows. 

“May I ask what you are doing?” I said after a time. 

“I am dyeing your hair black, Sir John. The dye 
can be removed at any time. The appearance is abso- 
lutely natural. The drug I am using is not generally 
known. I procure it from a friend in the Honcho 
Dori at Yokohama, and also the liquid which has 
already changed your skin from blond to swarthy. I 
will treat your hands in a minute.” 

I suppose I was three-quarters of an hour under 
his ministrations before he stepped back and looked 
at me critically. “Part your hair in the center, in- 


98 


THE AIR PIRATE 


stead of at the side, wear a low collar instead of a 
high one, and spectacles — they can be of plain glass 
— and you need not have the slightest fear of recogni- 
tion. In fact, Sir John, as far as outward appearance 
goes, you have already ceased to exist!” 

There was a mirror over the mantel-shelf. I stood 
up and looked. It was marvelous! It was uncanny, 
too. A dark-haired, dark-skinned stranger leered out 
of the glass at me, and I turned away with mingled 
feelings of amazement and disgust. 

“Do you drive an automobile ?” the Japanese asked. 

I jumped at the suddenness of the question, for my 
thoughts were far away. “Yes, I have a touring car 
of my own in a neighboring garage.” 

“It will be better not to use it. We shall take one 
of Mr. Van Adams’ cars. It is ready.” 

I laughed. “I’ve a lot to hear yet, you know, Mr. 
Danjuro, though I have placed myself in your hands 
without reserve. But you made very sure of me be- 
forehand, didn’t you?” 

“It is Mr. Van Adams’ command,” he answered sim- 
ply, and I reflected that here, indeed, was a man with 
a single soul. 

“We shall leave London at midnight,” he went on, 
“and drive through the whole of the night. I, also, am 
an expert chauffeur, and we can relieve each other.” 

“Thumbwood can drive, too. Of course we take 
him with us?” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


99 


‘‘He will be of the greatest assistance. Now, Sir 
John, if you want to take a little sleep, now is the 
time. I should like to consult with your servant, if I 
may, and have a chat with him. We shall have a good 
deal to do with one another.” 

Strangely enough, I did feel drowsy, despite my ex- 
citement. A couple of hours’ sleep would refresh me 
wonderfully, and I knew it. 

“Very well; I think it is a good suggestion. Say for 
two hours.” 

“By all means. I will carry out some other arrange- 
ments meanwhile. You shall have full explanations 
later on, and I thank you sincerely for the confidence 
you have reposed in me.” 

While we were talking we had left the room and 
crossed the hall. 

“A pleasant sleep,” he said, politely opening the door 
for me. “We will go and have a look at Major Hel- 
zephron later on.” 

“What?” I shouted. 

“He is in London. I have never seen him and I 
must certainly do so.” 

“In London ?” I cried, a dozen conflicting thoughts 
crowding and crushing into my mind. 

“. . . It is the reason that we leave London to-night.” 

Then he had shut the door on me and was gone. 
I had known him less than two hours. I was a man 
accustomed to rule, whose whole life was spent in 


100 


THE AIR PIRATE 


giving orders, and I lay down on my bed like a lamb 
without a further question. And, what is more, I did 
exactly as Mr. Danjuro had said. I fell into a deep, 
dreamless sleep. 

At a little after eight Mr. Danjuro and myself sat 
at dinner at the Restaurant Mille Colonnes. Most peo- 
ple know that expensive and luxurious home of epi- 
cures, with Nicholas, its stout and arrogant proprietor, 
and M. Dulac, its famous chef. 

We sat in the south gallery, at the extreme end, 
against the wall. The electric lights in the roof above 
us had been extinguished, and our table was lighted 
by candles in red shades. Indeed, we sat in a sort 
of darkness which must have made us almost invisible 
to the other diners, most of whom sat in the longer 
arm of the gallery at right angles to our own. 

We, on the contrary, could see everything. We 
could look over the gilded rail into the hall of the 
restaurant below, and every detail of the gallery on 
our own level was clear and distinct, though there 
was such a towering erection of flowers and ferns in 
the center of our table that it obscured what would 
otherwise have been a perfect view. 

I wore a low, turned-down collar and a dark flan- 
nel suit. Danjuro, also, had changed his clothes, and, 
in some real but indefinite way, his appearance. He 
wore a flannel suit and a straw hat, and also a neck- 
tie which I suddenly spotted as that of my old college, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


101 


Christ Church, Oxford. But the extraordinary thing 
about him was that he seemed fifteen years younger. 

He had promised to explain at the “Mille Colonnes.” 
As We began upon the salted prawns and the stuffed 
olives he did so. 

“You are now Mr. Johns, an Oxford tutor, Sir John. 
I am a young Japanese gentleman, my own name will 
serve, whom you are coaching. We are going into 
the country with this disguise. It is one which will 
easily account for your being in the company of an 
Asiatic gentleman, and which you will have no diffi- 
culty in sustaining . 55 

It was, indeed, a simple and excellent plan for avoid- 
ing undue curiosity. I said so, and then: “Now per- 
haps you will tell me where we are going. I have 
my ideas. . . 

“We are going west , 55 he answered gravely. “To 
Cornwall . 55 

My heart beat fast. It was what I wanted him to 
say. “To the home of Helzephron?” 

“Yes. For it is there we shall be in the very center 
of the web. In those far western solitudes, despite 
the recent opening up of the Duchy to tourists, there 
are still vast spaces of lonely moorland and unvisited 
coast where one may walk for half a day and meet 
no living soul. There, is a great Hinterland between 
the little town of St. Ives and the Land’s End that 
for all practical purposes is unknown and unexplored. 


102 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Later on, I will show you certain maps. ... It is in one 
of the remotest spots of all that Major Helzephron 
has his house. I tell you, Sir John,” he continued, 
with a sort of passion, “that in those lost and forgot- 
ten solitudes, where England stretches out her granite 
foot to spurn the Atlantic, strange secrets lie hid to- 
day ! On those gray and lonely moors, where the last 
Druids practised their mysterious rites, and which are 
still covered with sinister memorials of the past, lies 
the explanation of the terror which is troubling the 
world! There, and there only, shall we discover the 
secrets of the air, and — if human skill and determina- 
tion are of any avail — Miss Constance Shepherd!” 

An obsequious waiter came with iced consomme. 
He was followed by the great Nicholas himself, bulg- 
ing out of his buttoned frock-coat — Nicholas never 
wore evening dress — who bowed low and had a whis- 
pered confabulation with Danjuro. 

I remarked on this unusual honor. “I do what I 
wish here,” the Japanese replied. “It is, of course, 
through Mr. Van Adams. I hold this place in the hol- 
low of my hand — as you will presently see!” 

He gave one of his rare and weary smiles, and then 
said quietly: “Please do not get up or move. Major 
Helzephron has just come into the gallery!” 

I could not have moved. His words turned me 


to stone. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


103 


“I felt sure,” he went on, ‘‘that for a day or two 
Helzephron would show himself in London. Know- 
ing what we know — or at least suspect — such a move 
was a certainty. He is in the habit of coming here. 
He booked his usual seat at this restaurant, and his 
usual box at the Parthenon Theatre — and for reasons 
obvious to you and me, if to no one else in the world ! 
I confess to an anxiety to look upon this man.” 

“You have had this corner darkened?” I said quickly. 
“No one can see us here?” 

“Not clearly. ’And Helzephron would not know 
who we are if he did see us. But, as he is sure to 
come upon us in Cornwall, it is better to take no risks. 
To that end I have had a little device arranged for 
us which proved of great service to me once in 
Chicago.” 

He bent forward to the mass of ferns and flowers 
in the center of the table, disarranging the greenery 
at its base. At once a green-painted tube became visi- 
ble, and then a slanting mirror, the size of a postcard. 

“What on earth is that?” I whispered. 

“An adaptation of the periscope!” he replied, tak- 
ing a magnifying glass from his pocket, adjusting it, 
and bending over the mirror. “The lens is focused 
upon Helzephron’s table. With this magnifier I en- 
large the image in the mirror. Ah! So that is the 
honorable gentleman !” 


104 


THE AIR PIRATE 


A faint hissing noise came from him. His face 
stiffened into fixed and horrible intentness as he stared 
through his magnifier at the little oblong of mirror. 

“Shi-ban, Go-ban, hei 1’^ he muttered. “There are 
two, then. I expect the younger man is the Honor- 
able Herbert Gascoigne, of whom we have heard 

The hissing noise continued, the ecstasy of atten- 
tion did not relax for two or three minutes. 

At last Dan j tiro looked up. His face, which had 
seemed carved out of jade, relaxed. 

“Will you take my seat?” he said politely, handing 
me his reading-glass. “A little drama will commence 
in a few minutes. It will interest you!” 

I gave him a glance of interrogation as we ex- 
changed chairs. 

“We shall be in Cornwall to-morrow, and in ad- 
vance of our friends,” he whispered. “But, in order 
that we may carry out our preliminary inquiries quite 
undisturbed, I have thought out a little plan by which, 
if all goes well, Major Helzephron will be detained in 
London for a day or two — you will see.” 

Trembling with eagerness I stared down at the 
mirror. 

The periscope was perfectly focused. The addi- 
tion of the reading-glass made everything perfectly 
clear. 

Two men in evening clothes were seated at a table. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


105 


Their heads were close together, and they were talk- 
ing earnestly. One was a tall, handsome boy of two- 
and-twenty, with a fair complexion and a reckless, dis- 
sipated cast of face. Young as he was, evil experi- 
ence had marked him, and his smile was that of a 
much older man. 

But I scarcely cast a glance on him as I stared at 
the colored, moving miniature of “Hawk Hel- 
zephron.” The man’s face was deeply tanned; above 
the brows a magnificent dome of white forehead went 
up to a thatch of dark red hair — the forehead of a 
thinker if ever I saw one. The face below was seamed 
and lined everywhere. The thin nose curved out and 
down like that of a bird of prey. The mouth was 
large, well-shaped, but compressed, the chin a wedge 
of resolution. And, as he talked, I saw a pair of 
slightly protruding eyes, cold and fierce. The whole 
aspect of the man was ferocious and formidable to 
a degree. 

“Watch!” whispered Danjuro. 

I watched, and this is what I saw. 

Into the picture came a thick-set, brutal-looking 
man, with a blazing diamond in his shirt-front. He 
was passing Helzephron’s table when his dinner jacket 
caught a wine-glass and swept it to the floor. 

The hawk-faced man looked up with a scowl and 
said something just as the portly Nicholas and a waiter 


106 


THE AIR PIRATE 


appeared in the background, as if passing casually by. 

The thick-set man bent down till his face was close 
to Helzephron’s. He said something also, with an 
unpleasant smile. 

Instantly Helzephron leapt up and drove his fist full 
into the other’s face. 

The fight that followed ended very speedily. The 
thick-set man took the blow calmly. Then, without 
heat, and in a fashion which instantly told me the 
truth of the matter, he set about Helzephron, hitting 
him where and when he chose, until a shouting crowd 
of guests and waiters separated the combatants and a 
policeman and commissionaire hurried them away 
from the gallery. 

During all the tumult Mr. Danjuro sat quietly 
smoking a cigarette. 

“That was Mr. Wag Ashton, the pugilist,” he re- 
marked. “Honorable Nicholas and the waiter saw 
that the honorable Helzephron struck him first. I 
think the Major will be resting for a day or two be- 
fore Mr. Ashton summonses him for assault.” 

I felt faint with surprise and amazement. 

“So you, you arranged . . .” 

He interrupted me. “Now let us finish our dinner 
in peace,” he said. “Some river trout, meunier, are 
coming.” 

An hour afterwards, with myself at the wheel, a 


THE AIR PIRATE 


107 


huge sixty horse-power Limousine, loaded with lug- 
gage and with Messrs. Danjuro and Thumbwood in- 
side, was rolling down the Piccadilly slope. 

To Penzance. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE HUNTING INSTINCT IS STIMULATED BY A 
PROCESSION 



HE big car rolled down Piccadilly. She was a 


A beauty to handle, as I discovered in the first two 
minutes. The very latest type of electric starter, a 
magnificent lighting installation — every convenience 
was ready to my hand. I was in an extraordinary state 
of mind as I steered the car through the late theater 
and restaurant traffic, purely mechanically and without 
conscious thought about it. 

The predominant sensation was one of immense 
overwhelming relief at the prospect of action. Mere 
office activities, the planning of guard and patrol ships, 
conferences with pilots and officials, had been quite 
powerless to calm the terrible fever of unrest within 
me. It was commanding other people to do things, 
not doing them myself. I knew all the time that I 
should have been happier piloting one of the war- 
planes over the Atlantic. Now, at any rate, I was 
doing something real. I was actually setting out, in 
my own person, upon a definite quest. It might be all 


108 


THE AIR PIRATE 


109 


moonshine. I was well aware that many hard-headed 
people would have laughed at this expedition, consider- 
ing the slender evidence I had. They would have 
talked about “circumstantial evidence,” the folly of 
pure assumption, and so forth. “Behold this dreamer 
cometh !” would have been their attitude. 

And although I was driving the big car up Park 
Lane for Oxford Street and the road to the West, I 
did feel as if I were in a dream. My whole life had 
been altered by the events of the past few days, ruined 
for ever it might be. To-night its stream was vio- 
lently diverted from its course. Everything with 
which I was familiar had flashed away, and I was on 
the brink of the fantastic and unknown. There was 
not a man in London setting out upon so strange an 
errand, under circumstances so unprecedented, as I 
was this night. We slid by a huge white house, set 
back from the railings, and with all its windows look- 
ing out over the Park. It was the London palace that 
Mr. Van Adams had built for himself during the last 
five years, and the strangeness of my affair was inten- 
sified at the sight. 

Only a few hours ago the great man had been sit- 
ting in my chambers, and introducing the enigmatic 
figure that sat behind me in the car. Here was a dream 
figure indeed ! It was impossible to think of Danjuro 
as a human being. He was just a brain, a specialized 
force, devoted to one object, and probably, as Van 


110 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Adams had hinted, the supreme force of its kind in 
existence. Already I had placed myself in his hands, 
and not only my personal interests, dear as those were 
to me, but my responsibilities to the State as well, and 
that was no small thing for him to have achieved in 
so short a space of time. The unique detachment and 
concentration that was sitting behind me had an almost 
magical effect upon one’s mind and will. With such 
help, surely, I could not fail? 

I fell to thinking of what the Japanese had already 
achieved, the quiet and masterly skill of his analysis, 
the cold audacity of his plot to keep Helzephron in 
London, the neatness and finish of his operations as 
witnessed by the periscope upon the dinner-table at 
the “Mille Colonnes.” Surely, Helzephron, or who- 
ever was the master-criminal, was a doomed man with 
Danjuro on his track? 

We were running out of Ealing now, and traffic 
was almost gone in the long, straight westward road 
among the acres of market gardens and glass-houses 
that fringe the western approach to the metropolis. 
I let out the powerful engines, and as the car leapt 
like a spurred horse, my heart leapt up into anger at 
the name Helzephron. 

Connie — poor, lost Connie — had told me herself how 
the man had pestered her, and I had seen him at Pad- 
dington with my own eyes. The investigations at the 
Parthenon Theatre by Thumbwood and Danjuro had 


THE AIR PIRATE 


111 


put the details in the picture, and an ugly one it was. 
The man, V.C. as he was, had a bad reputation enough. 
I had watched him that very evening, marked every 
line upon the hawk-like, cruel face, and thrilled when 
the vulgar pugilist attacked him. It was the next best 
thing to thrashing him myself ! Yet — I record this as 
an interesting point of my psychology at the begin- 
ning of the enterprise — I was disgusted with and 
loathed the man only. I did not hate him, for I 
found it, even now, impossible to believe that he was 
the abductor of my girl. 

Understand me if you can. Danjuro had convinced 
my intellect, but not my heart. My state was the re- 
verse of the ordinary state in such a situation. Plenty 
of people believe in anything — a religion for example 
— by faith, and cannot justify their faith intellectually. 
Their belief is always confident and strong. I be- 
lieved intellectually, but had no faith, which was why 
this quest seemed shadow-like and a thing in a dream. 
No doubt, the long night drive and my curious- com- 
panion — I was always conscious of him — intensified 
the impression of unreality. 

About three in the morning Danjuro spoke through 
the tube and insisted on relieving me. I stopped the 
huge car in a dark, tree-bordered road, where the 
moonlight lay in pools and patches of silver, and ex- 
changed seats with the little man. As I stood on the 
road and stamped with my feet to restore the circu- 


112 


THE AIR PIRATE 


lation, the night-breeze rustled in the leaves, and far 
away I heard the nightjar spinning. Never was such 
a still and solitary place. Danjuro’s face in the moon- 
light seemed as immobile and lifeless as one of those 
Japanese masks of wax with eyes of opalescent glass 
that you can buy in the Oriental shops. 

I got inside and, suddenly weary, sank back in the 
luxuriously cushioned seat. The car started again, 
and Thumbwood switched on a light in the roof. He 
produced a Thermos flask of hot soup, which I found 
delicious and refreshing. 

“How have you been getting on with Mr. Danjuro?” 
I inquired. 

“Very well, thank you, Sir John. He knows every- 
thing, I do believe. If there’s one thing where I should 
detect a man who was talking through ’is ’at, it’s ’osses. 
Stands to reason. But this gentleman knows ’osses 
like a blooming trainer, sir. And as for the games 
of the crooks in the ring and on the course, he’s wide 
to every one of ’em. I generally carries a pack of 
cards in my pocket, sir, and I’ve got one with me now. 
The things ’e showed me passes belief. I’ve seen a 
good deal of that sort of work, but Mr. Danjuro’s 
an easy winner. I wouldn’t play poker with ’im no, 
nor ’alfpenny nap, for a fistful o’ thick ’uns!” 

We breakfasted at Exeter, and I had the opportunity 
of a shave and a bath. I remember that when I was 


THE AHl PIRATE 


US 


half-way up the hotel stairs a horrid thought struck 
me, and I hurried down again to consult Danjuro. 

How would the stuff he had put on my skin stand 
hot water and soap? 

He reassured me, however. Nothing would remove 
the beastly stuff but a preparation he carried with him, 
and I bathed in peace. 

It was a beautiful morning when we started again, 
and for many miles our route lay close to the smiling 
Devon sea. The waves were sapphire blue, framed in 
the red sandstone rocks, and the sky resembled a great 
hollow turquoise. It was a bright morning, and one 
side of me rejoiced in it; but the thought of my girl 
was always there, a constant sullen pain, for which 
the morning held no anodyne. 

Thumbwood drove on this stretch of the journey, 
and Danjuro sat inside studying innumerable maps, 
and now and then making notes in a pocket-book. I 
wondered what thoughts were seething and bubbling 
behind that massive dome of skull. 

Apart from the scenery, there was plenty to in- 
terest a Commissioner of Air Police. The sky was 
speckled with small private planes, converging upon 
Plymouth or Exeter from many a pleasant country 
residence. There was no longer any need for the 
professional man or the prosperous tradesman to live 
within a very few miles of his place of business. Men 
flew to their day’s work, and from considerable dis- 


1145 


THE AIR PIRATE 


tances, and as a matter of course. A mile or two out 
at sea one distinguished the large steady-going pas- 
senger airships by which England was now ringed, 
and occasionally the Royal Mail boats cut the sky like 
javelins. More than once I spotted one of my police 
patrols. It was curious to remember that I, who sat 
here with a stained face and shaven lip, bowling 
along the Devon roads at a miserable forty miles an 
hour, had supreme control of all those aerial argosies. 

There were few cars upon the roads at this early 
hour. Contrary to general opinion fifteen years ago, 
the popularity of flying had by no means killed the 
automobile. It had lessened their numbers in an appre- 
ciable degree, and made the roads more pleasant. I 
should, of course, have preferred to reach our destina- 
tion, or, at any rate, to have traveled the greater part 
of the way towards it by airship. The system of regis- 
tration and the police regulations — framed by myself — 
would have given too much away. My actual identity 
and purpose might not have been discovered, but we 
should have been easily traced, and Helzephron — if 
he was what we suspected — would be the first to hear 
of a private aeroplane making its appearance in the 
solitudes where he lived. 

Towards midday we were approaching Plymouth, 
when I began to feel uneasy. The agony I had en- 
dured there a day or two ago, when Thumbwood burst 
into my bedroom with news of the Atlantis disaster, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


115 


clouded my memory. I felt that I never wished to see 
the pride of Devon again. This, though, was merely 
weakness which I crushed down. More practical con- 
siderations occurred to me. I made Charles stop the 
car and got inside with Danjuro. 

“Look here, ,, I said, “hadn’t we better run straight 
through the town and get on into Cornwall? We can 
lunch at St. Germans or somewhere.” 

“You have some special reason for avoiding Plym- 
outh, Sir John?” Danjuro asked politely. 

“Well, it’s the air-port for America. One of my 
largest stations is there. Dozens and dozens of peo- 
ple know me. I’ve always been a familiar figure in 
Plymouth, and never more so than lately, of course.” 

The Japanese gave his little weary smile. “I do 
not think you realize the alteration in your appear- 
ance,” he said. “I assure you, and I am an expert 
in these matters, that no one at all would ever recog- 
nize you. I had proposed to stop in Plymouth for at 
least a couple of hours.” 

“Why, exactly?” 

“For several reasons. One is that I shall be able 
to purchase some local Cornish maps and a directory 
or two, which I need, and found no opportunity of 
procuring in London. But that is not all. Here we 
are in the very center of air matters, as far as the 
Atlantic is concerned. The place is still seething with 
excitement. Nothing else but the piracies is spoken 


116 


THE AIR PIRATE 


of. The town is packed with correspondents of the 
principal European newspapers. It is in a ferment. 
I much wish to go about with my ears open for an hour 
or two. I do think, Sir John, that it would be unwise 
to neglect this opportunity, for you as well as myself. 
There is no knowing what we may pick up.” 

“You’re certain about my disguise?” 

“Perfectly certain. You will not, of course, enter 
into long conversations with anyone who knows you 
well, as your voice would betray you. Otherwise you 
may rest secure.” 

“Yes, that’s the weak point,” I replied. “I’ve always 
heard that, however perfectly a man may be disguised, 
you cannot disguise his voice.” 

He rolled a cigarette with the quick snatching move- 
ment of his fingers that always struck me as a miracle 
of dexterity. 

“It is not true,” he remarked. “I have invented 
five methods, three mechanical and two medical or 
chemical, whichever you like to call them. When we 
have leisure I will show you. But there is no need for 
anything of the sort in your case. It will give you 
confidence, Sir John, to test the completeness of your 
new appearance. If you will go to the Royal Hotel and 
lunch there — keeping awake to hear the general talk — 
I will join you about three.” 

“Very well,” I replied, though with some reluctance, 
“and the car?” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


117 


“Mr. Thumbwood has been with you at the 'Royal/ 
and he is not disguised. It would be better that he 
should not approach the hotel. We will put you down 
a short distance away. I will remain in the car and 
direct Thumbwood where to go.” 

Nothing escaped this little man ! He seemed to fore- 
see and provide for everything, and when I alighted 
five minutes afterwards, some two hundred yards from 
the hotel, I felt fairly secure in my new character as 
Mr. Johns, the don of Christ Church, Oxford. 

Immediately I was in the street I became aware — 
you know how one does? — that the Japanese was right, 
and Plymouth was in a ferment. London is too vast 
for anything but a national calamity to make any 
alteration in the outward appearance of things, and 
even then it takes a sharp eye and a man well versed 
in the psychology of crowds to detect anything unusual. 
Not so a big provincial town. 

As I walked along the classic fagade of the theater 
and turned the corner to the main entrance of the 
hotel, I saw one thought on every face and heard one 
single topic of discussion. The streets, always so gay 
and cheerful with military and naval uniforms, seemed 
more crowded than their wont, and there was a definite 
electricity in the air. I know that I felt stimulated, 
encouraged to persist, and as I ascended the massive 
steps of the hotel, my clean-shaven lips smiled to think 
with what interest I should be regarded if anyone 


118 


THE AIR PIRATE 


had but an inkling of whom I was and upon what 
mission. 

And then I had a shock. 

Standing in the big lounge-hall, and talking to a 
man in a black morning-coat and a silk hat, was my 
second in command — Muir Lockhart, Assistant Com- 
missioner of Air Police! He was in uniform, a spe- 
cial uniform that we both wore upon ceremonial occa- 
sions only. 

“Yes,” he was saying, “Pm down here representing 
the Chief.” 

I dared not stay to listen, but I walked towards them 
as slowly as I could. Muir Lockhart has a somewhat 
high, penetrating voice. 

“When did you come down?” asked the other man. 

“Arrived half an hour ago, flew down from White- 
hall this morning,” said Muir Lockhart. 

“Then Sir John Custance isn’t coming?” 

My assistant shook his head. “Utterly impossible,” 
he said. “Sir John cannot leave town just now. He 
must be at the head of things; can’t possibly be spared. 
I saw him this morning before I left; he had been 
working all night and was nearly dead. ‘Explain my 
position to them,’ he said; ‘nothing but strict duty 
would keep me away from Plymouth to-day/ So, 
you see how it is, Mr. Mayor?” 

“Oh, quite, quite! Well, I must be getting round 


THE AIR PIRATE 119 

to the Guildhall. You will march up your men at 
half-past one? Thank you.” 

The man in the silk hat, who I realized must be the 
Mayor of Plymouth, hurried away. I was left face to 
face with Muir Lockhart. 

He stared at me, not offensively, but in such a way 
that he could not have missed a detail of my appear- 
ance; he always was an observant beggar. Then he 
passed by without a sign of recognition. Good ! I re- 
flected, if my own colleague, who saw me for several 
hours each day, did not know me, no one else would. 
It seemed a good omen, and I blessed Danjuro in my 
heart. 

And what a splendid liar Muir Lockhart was! He 
knew that I had gone away on my own, and he hadn’t 
the least idea in the world where I was! It was a 
temptation to discover myself, but I refrained. 

I was very puzzled. What on earth was he doing 
here in uniform, and talking to the Mayor about? I 
hadn’t a suspicion of the truth even then, and I had 
a curious sense of being out of things, forgotten and 
on the scrap-heap! The long drive had made me 
hungry and I thought about lunch. Before going into 
the coffee-room I wished to remove the stains of travel, 
so I went down the corridor to the lavatory. 

When I entered a man in his shirt-sleeves was bend- 
ing over one of the basins and sluicing himself with 
many splashes. As I was washing my own swarthy 


120 THE AIR PIRATE 

hands he emerged from a towel and gave me a casual 
glance. 

It was Mr. Van Adams! 

I could not repress a violent start, the thing was so 
sudden. What did this gathering of the clans mean? 
He noticed my movement at once, and looked at me 
with inquiry in his eyes. The lavatory was quite 
empty save for our two selves, and my decision was 
taken at once. 

“Mr. Van Adams ?” I asked. 

“Sure!” he replied. “You have the floor — shoot!” 

“You don’t know me?” 

“Not from the great Lum-tum, though your voice 
is kind of homey.” 

“I’m Sir John Custance. Danjuro’s been faking me 
up. He’s down here with me.” 

“Gee!” said Mr. Van Adams. “Aren’t you the 
fresh thing now, Sir John? So you’re down for the 
obsequies incog. ? That’s what I’ve come for — matter 
of respect. Flew down from Park Lane after break- 
fast.” 

“I’m on my way west. We only stopped here for 
an hour or two, as Danjuro had some business.” 

“I’ve ordered lunch in a private room overlooking 
the square. Some right up, Sir John, you’ll be able 
to see everything from there.” 

“Thank you. But I’m still in the dark. I’m right 
away from the office now, as you know. I saw Com- 


THE AIR PIRATE 121 

mander Muir Lockhart here just now, but I couldn't 
speak to him. . . 

He took me by the arm and led me along the corri- 
dor to the lift. “Captain Lashmar, of your force and 
the five men of the patrol boat are being buried to- 
day," he said; “also Captain Swainson, of the Atlantis , 
and the boys murdered on his ship.” 

I flushed under my dye. I had never heard a word 
of it. I felt an absolute beast as we entered the private 
room, and I tried to explain to the millionaire. 

“Think you callous and unfeeling?” he said in an- 
swer. “Guess I know better than that, my friend. 
You're out to prevent just such a spectacle as we’re 
going to witness from ever happening again. You're 
playing a better game than prancing along at the head 
of a procession. You’re getting busy at the heart of 
things. Now sit down and share the pork bosom and 
beans, or whatever they've given us. And tell me all 
about it." 

We sat down to lunch, and after a glass of Bur- 
gundy, I told Van Adams of all that had occurred, and 
also expressed my complete confidence in Danjuro. 

“You’re right,” he said. “There isn’t an investi- 
gator on the globe that'd carry a tune to him. He 
has his orders to stick to you right through and he'll 
carry them out. That little man's got a brain like 
the Mammoth Cave, and he’s without human passions, 
save only one — he’d go to hell in a paper suit for mef 


122 


THE AIR PIRATE 


See here ” and the millionaire told me a string of 

anecdotes about the uncanny little Jap that would make 
the fortunes of a writer of Romance. 

He was still on the same subject when he stopped 
in the middle of a sentence. 

The noise in the square outside was suddenly hushed, 
and we heard a muffled chord of music. Rising from 
our chairs we went to the windows. Everywhere, as 
far as eye could reach, was a black sea of heads, from 
among which the slender clock-tower on its island in 
the center rose like a sentinel. 

The pavements were lined by troops, soldiers and 
sailors in equal proportions, and there was a flutter 
as of falling leaves as every head was bared and the 
piercing sweetness of Chopin’s “Funeral March” filled 
all the air. 

Then they came, following the band : thirteen coffins 
covered with flowers, thirteen brave heroes, who would 
never slant down the long reaches of the upper air 
again. 

After the hearses walked Paget and Fowles, the 
two heroic airmen who had called the rescuing ship 
by wireless, and then came the chaplains and Muir 
Lockhart. 

For my part I saw the whole procession in a dream. 
The head of the Transatlantic Air Line, the Mayor 
and Corporation in their robes — the stately funereal 
pomp of it all seemed unsubstantial and unreal. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


m 


Mr. Van Adams was kneeling a yard or two away 
from the window. His head was bent, he had a 
crucifix and a string of golden beads in his hands, and 
was saying prayers. Who would have thought it of 
this master of millions with the pike-like jaw? I sup- 
pose he was a Catholic. 

But my mind was far away, above the heaving 
wastes of the Atlantic, and I saw an unnamed, un- 
known ship rushing through the air, at a speed un- 
dreamed of hitherto in the history of flight. And 
in the pilot’s seat I had a vision of a hawk-faced 
man with cruel eyes and a smile upon his hard, thin 
lips. . . . 

I stood there for so long that the very tail of the 
procession was passing by, and Mr. Van Adams rose 
from his prayers with the sign of the Cross, and 
touched me on the arm. 

“Look!” he said, pointing down into the street. 

I followed his finger and saw Danjuro standing on 
the opposite curb. He was looking after the cortege, 
and his face, with the expression on it, was quite 
clear to see. . . . 

In an instant I came out of my dream. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE MAN WITH THE WICKED FACE 

O N the morning after our arrival I stepped out of 
my bedroom window at Penzance and stood 
upon the balcony. 

Many times had I flown over Cornwall; never had 
I set foot in the Duchy until now. Plymouth had 
always been my furthest west. 

The sea was blue as the Mediterranean, the sky a 
huge hollow turquoise, the air all Arabia. Away in the 
bay St. Michael's Mount, crowned with towers, 
gleamed like a vision of the New Jerusalem in some 
old monkish missal — and the heart within me was so 
hard, stem, and full of deadly purpose that no sum- 
mer seas nor balmy western winds could touch the 
rigor of my mood. 

For we were on the battlefield now. There was no 
more vagueness nor speculation. I, in the place I oc- 
cupied, owed a debt to society, and to myself a personal 
and bitter revenge. And those debts should be paid. 

Danjuro knocked and entered the bedroom. Yes- 
terday afternoon, within half an hour of our arrival 
124 


THE AIR PIRATE 


125 


at Penzance, he had disappeared, telling me not to 
wait up for him, as he could not say what time he 
would return. I accordingly went to bed early, for 
I was tired out, and had not seen him until now. 

“I have been very busy, Sir John,” he said. “In 
the characters of a mining engineer at one place and 
agent for a foreign shipping firm at another, I have 
been making some very necessary inquiries. I engaged 
a local motor — our own would hardly have suited the 
part — and I have covered a great deal of country.” 

“And your exact object?” 

“I have two. One is to discover any private engi- 
neering works where special engines could have been 
made in secret. You will remember that we both came 
to the conclusion that the Air Pirate could have ob- 
tained silent engines in no other way. The other is 
■ — petrol.” 

“Petrol! I never thought of that! I see what you 
mean.” 

“Precisely, Sir John. An airship such as the one 
we are after must have a constant supply of petrol, 
and, of course, consumes enormous quantities. When 
I can connect a certain private individual with the re- 
ceipt of such quantities, we are another step forward.”' 

“How have you got on ?” I asked eagerly. 

“I have nothing definite. But there are certain in- 
dications — slight, oh, very slight! — which I am fol- 
lowing up. I will go into everything with you this 


126 


THE AIR PIRATE 


evening. Meanwhile you have your own day mapped 
out” 

“Yes. I have studied the local maps and asked a 
good many questions. After breakfast I shall walk 
over the moors to this little lonely village of Zerran. 
It is about eight miles away from here, and, I under- 
stand, not more than one and a half from Tregeraint 
Sea House, which is the home of Major Helzephron. 
There is a fair-sized old-fashioned inn on the cliffs 
where we shall probably be able to get rooms.” 

“And settle down to our reading party,” he replied, 
with a sudden gleam in his narrow eyes. “I have the 
Greek texts of Plato’s ‘Republic’ and the ‘Meno’ in 
my portmanteau; it is wise to pay attention to de- 
tails! We shall, then, meet at dinner this evening, 
and I expect that your news will be of great impor- 
tance. With your permission, I shall take honorable 
Thumbwood with me. He will be useful.” 

After breakfast, with some sandwiches and a flask, 
I set out, passing down the main street of the far 
western town, and by the last station in England, till 
I found myself mounting a winding road which led up- 
wards through a suburb towards the moorlands. 

The air was heavy with the perfume of innumerable 
flowers. Tall palm-trees grew in the gardens of old 
granite houses, a sub-tropical flora flourished every- 
where, and it was difficult to believe that one was in 
England. The hedges were luxuriant with ferns that 


THE AIR PIRATE 


127 


grow in hot-houses elsewhere, Royal Osmunda and 
Maidenhair, and every moment the road grew steeper. 

If you look at the map of Cornwall you will see that 
the extremity of the county forms a sort of peninsula. 
Penzance is on the south, and faces the English Chan- 
nel on the south. My back was now turned to this, 
and I was walking due north, towards my objective, 
the vast and little known “Hinterland” of mountainous 
moor and savage coast which lies between the Channel 
and the Atlantic. 

As I went, the warmth and color, the riot of Nature 
all round, seemed as unreal as a dream. It brought no 
ease or healing to my soul. Deep, deep down, though 
controlled and prisoned by the will, an unending agony 
was lying. I’m not going to insist upon this, or often 
obtrude it in my story. But you must not think that, 
until the very end, I knew a moment’s peace. My dear 
love and her awful fate were ever before me, and all 
the sights and sounds of Nature in this western para- 
dise breathed nothing but her name. 

... At last the habitations of man grew fewer. 
Gardens gave place to sloping fields enclosed by 
“hedges” of stone, and at length a long, level sky-line 
above and in front showed me that the moors were 
close. 

I reached the top at last, and took in a great breath 
of the sweetest, most exhilarating air that I have ever 
known. The unfenced road stretched away ahead of 


128 


THE AIR PIRATE 


me for miles, a long, white ribbon laid upon the heath 
and yellow gorse. I was on a vast plateau of gold and 
brown and purple. To the left great hills crowned 
with rock granite tors cut into the sky, and to the 
right -was the jagged summit of Carne Zerran, three 
miles away as the crow flies. At its foot, on the edge 
of mighty cliffs that fell away a sheer three hundred 
feet to the ocean, I knew lay the little village that I 
sought. 

I looked at my map for a moment, took out my 
pocket compass, and then plunged into the heather. 
Already I had a good idea of the lie of the country — 
it is an instinct with your flying man — and I realized 
that an accurate knowledge of it would prove invalu- 
able in the task before me. 

I met no living soul during that first walk over the 
moor. Larks were singing high above in the blue; a 
pair of the rare Cornish choughs, with their scarlet 
bills, flew screeching from the summit of a lichen-cov- 
ered rock as big as a house ; but until I got to Carne 
Zerran, and looked down to the narrow strip of pasture 
lands and cornfields that lie along the cliffs, there was 
no sign of human habitation. 

Far down below I saw a church tower and a little 
cluster of gray houses. Beyond was the coast-line, 
with a creamy froth of breakers at the foot of the 
jagged cliffs, and the Atlantic, “Mother of Oceans,” 
beyond. There was no land between me and New 


THE AIR PIRATE 


129 


York! I suppose that in all the glory of sun and 
color, superb spaces of sea and sky, I stood alone, and 
looked upon a scene as fair as any on this earth. But 
as I focused my binoculars, and swept the coast, my 
only thought was that here — if anywhere at all — was 
the heart of the mystery I had come to solve. 

Well! It was a fitting setting, in its lonely vast- 
ness. Anything might happen here among these 
Druid-haunted hills. A crafty fiend, a man with a 
great intellect and Satan in his soul, might well find 
this his proper theater ! 

About a mile from the village, and just below me, I 
saw the cliffs bent inwards between two projecting 
headlands. This must be the Zerran Cove of the 
map, and — yes, seemingly upon the very edge of the 
precipice was a long, gray building, which could be 
none other than “The Miners' Arms." 

I began the descent, leaping from rock to rock, 
where the adders lay basking in the sun. After a few 
hundred yards, I struck a gorge, through which a 
stream fell towards the sea. Here I found a well-de- 
fined path, which looped downwards to the ruins of a 
deserted tin-mine. I saw, as I passed it, the window- 
less engine-house, and the gaunt timbers of the wind- 
ing gear still in place. The gibbet-like erection and the 
dumps of useless stuff covered with rank dock leaves 
made a forlorn and ugly picture in that narrow gorge 
where the sun hardly penetrated. 


130 


THE AIR PIRATE 


I passed it soon, and came out upon the main coach 
road from St. Ives to Land’s End, and, crossing this, 
found a side lane, which took me direct to the remote 
hostelry I had seen from the heights above. 

It was a large place, covered with ivy, and no doubt 
did a considerable trade eighty years before, when the 
innumerable tin-mines on the moor were all at work. 
Now it seemed forgotten by the world, and all asleep in 
the sun. “An ideal base for our operations!” I 
thought, as I strode through an open door into a long, 
low room, with a stone floor and heavily timbered roof. 

It was cool, and so dark after the blazing sunshine 
that, for a moment, I could see nothing, though I 
heard a sound of stertorous breathing. When my eyes 
became accustomed to the gloom I saw that there was 
a man asleep by the little counter. He sat on a bench 
which ran along the wall, and his head was buried in 
his arms, which rested on a beer-stained table. By his 
side stood a bottle half full of whisky. 

Supposing him to be the landlord — and no engaging 
figure at that — I touched him on the shoulder. It was 
like springing a trap ! Instantly he snatched away his 
arms and sat up. For a second sleep held him. Then 
it passed away like a breath on glass, and if ever I saw 
fear on a man’s face I saw it then. 

He was dressed in a blue jersey and an alpaca coat, 
oil-stained and dirty. His hands were the hands of a 
mechanic, with grimy nails. But it was his face that 


THE AIR PIRATE 


131 


held me. It was sleek and cunning. There was a curi- 
ous mixture of refinement and wickedness. He seemed 
like a naturally sensitive man, whom circumstances, 
indulgence, or some special temptation, had led very 
deeply astray. 

I noted all this while he stared at me with a drooping 
jaw and bloodshot eyes. His skin had turned dead- 
white, like the belly of a fish, and whatever he was 
thinking I felt that I would not have that man’s con- 
science for a million. 

“I want you,” I said — they were the first words that 
came. 

He made an inarticulate noise. 

“You are the landlord, aren’t you?” 

At that he gave a long breath and his rigidity re- 
laxed. He snatched at the whisky bottle, poured some 
into a glass and drank it off neat. 

“Lord, how you startled me!” he said glibly. “I 
was far away — dreaming — and you frightened me out 
of my life !” 

It was my turn to be amazed, though I showed noth- 
ing. The fellow spoke with a cultivated voice and ac- 
cent which were impossible to mistake. He was not 
what I had thought him. 

“I am very sorry,” I said ; “you must please excuse 
me. But I naturally thought . . .” 

“Of course you did !” he said, and a civil but ugly 
smile came on his clever, unpleasant face. “As a 


132 


THE AIR PIRATE 


matter of fact, Trewhella, the landlord, has just gone 
to the village for a few minutes. He asked me to keep 
house for him. He’s almost due back now.” 

Thanking him urbanely, I sat down, my mind work- 
ing very quickly. He offered me some whisky, and 
though it was the last thing I wanted, I accepted after 
a show of reluctance. He was watching me out of the 
corners of his eyes the whole time. 

“Can you tell me,” I said, with great openness of 
manner, “if I can get rooms here, or in Zerran vil- 
lage?” 

He became alert at once. “Rooms, to stay in, do 
you mean?” 

“Yes. I am an Oxford tutor, and I have a young 
foreign gentleman in my charge whom I am coaching. 
I want a quiet place for three or four weeks, and this 
seems ideal for the purpose.” 

His face cleared. “I should imagine so,” he replied. 
“I know Trewhella does let sometimes.” 

“You live here?” I remarked, with polite indiffer- 
ence. 

“I have been here for a year,” he answered. “I 
am, as a matter of fact, a mining engineer — hence 
these clothes! I belong to a little private syndicate 
of friends who are opening up a disused tin-mine, on 
the moor not far away. Ah, here is the landlord! 
Trewhella, this gentleman wishes to speak to you.” 
And then to me: “Good-morning, sir. No doubt, if 


THE AIR PIRATE 


133 


you come here, I and my friends will see something of 
you. We are mostly public-school and University men 
ourselves, and we often look in here of an evening 
after our day’s work.” 

He waved his hand and went out into the sunshine. 


CHAPTER X 


SIR JOHN CUSTANCE COMES UPON THE HOUSE OF 
HELZEPHRON 

M R. TREWHELLA was an elderly Comish- 
man, with welcoming manners, the native 
shrewdness of his race, but without guile. We got on 
famously from the word “go.” He had three bed- 
rooms and a large sitting-room to let. His wife, who 
had driven into St. Ives, was, he asserted, a good cook. 
As for Thumbwood, he could wait on us and live with 
the landlord and his wife. Finally, there was an empty 
bam which would hold our car very comfortably. 

“And what would you be thinking of paying, zur?” 
asked Mr. Trewhella. 

“I shall leave that to you. I may tell you that the 
gentleman I am preparing for his Oxford examina- 
tion is wealthy. He is a Japanese nobleman, and as 
long as you make us comfortable . . ” 

This had the desired effect. The landlord became 
expansive in his slow way, and showed me all over 
the premises of his quaint and rambling dwelling. It 
was a wild and fantastic spot, an ancient haunt of 
134 


THE AIR PIRATE 


1S5 


smugglers and wreckers, I learnt. The back-yard 
opened straight into the short pneumatic turf above 
the cliffs, the brink of which was not more than two 
hundred yards away. Here the stream, which flowed 
past the inn, descended in a series of miniature cata- 
racts to a tiny cove of deep-green water, almost en- 
closed by two towering precipices, crowned with jagged 
spires and pinnacles of rock. There was a little scimi- 
tar of golden sand far down at the water’s edge, and 
the scene was one of savage grandeur that I have 
rarely known surpassed in all my travels. 

As he stood on the height and looked down, I saw 
something which seemed strangely out of place. A 
line of street rails, with wooden rollers at intervals be- 
tween them, fell at a dizzy angle from a spot some ten 
yards away on the turf, ending abruptly on the level, 
and in front of a smallish hut of corrugated iron. 

“What is the rail for?” I asked. “Surely you don’t 
haul the boats” — there were two of them lying on the 
beach — “right up to the top of the cliff! It must be 
two hundred and fifty feet!” 

“Nigher three hundred, zur. No. Them rails be- 
long to bring up machinery and stores for Tregeraint 
Mine by Carne Zerran. They do come by sea in a 
lil’ steamboat. ’Tes more convenient so. There be a 
lil’ oil engine in that shed to haul ’em up in trucks. I 
let the land, for ’tes all mine down-along, and they do 
pay me ten pound a year.” 


136 


THE AIR PIRATE 


We strolled back to the house, Mr. Trewhella pro- 
posing a Cornish pasty and beer for lunch. 

“Now you mention it, that gentleman who was keep- 
ing house for you just now said that he was a mining 
engineer.” 

The landlord’s big, weather-beaten face wrinkled 
like a stained window. He began to heave and 
chuckle, finally exploding in a bellow of laughter. 

“Mr. Vargus!” he spluttered, “Mr. Vargus! He 
thinks he be a mining engineer, but a knows no more 
about it than my pig ! He be a clever gentleman, sure 
’nuf. He do have some braave knowledge to ma- 
chinery, I’ll allow. But mining, and tin-mining!” 

Mr. Trewhella could find no further words to ex- 
press his contempt for the mining attainments of my 
friend with the refined and evil face. 

“You see,” the landlord continued, as we ate our 
pasties, “I’m an old mine-captain myself, bred and 
born to it. ’Tedn’t likely as I could be deceived. When 
I heered that a gentleman had come into Tregeraint 
Manor and the old mine, and proposed to work it, I 
laughed, I did. I know every inch of Wheal Treger- 
aint, and fifty years ago it was a fine property. To-day 
them amatoors up along’ll never get enough tin out to 
oxidize, let alone smelt.” 

“Who are they, then, Mr. Trewhella?” 

“That’s what lots of folk asked when they first 
come here in twos and threes. They’re gentlemen, zur, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


137 


like yourself, that’s what they are. Never was such a 
thing known in these parts, though folk are used to 
’em now. There’s Mr. Helzephron, a Cornishman 
himself, and should know better, Mr. Vargus, you 
seed, Mr. Gascoigne, a mad young devil if you like, 
and near a dozen more. They all live together in the 
great house on the cliff and work the mine theyselves. 
Never no one else allowed. They cooks and does for 
themselves, just as if they was in a mining camp in 
California.” 

“No women, servants or anything?” 

“Never an apron. My missus belong to say they 
lives like Popish monks, which she see when traveling 
with a lady among the Eyetalians. ‘Not so, my tender 
dear,’ says I. T never heered that Popish monks spent 
most of their evenings in the village inn with a bottle 
of Scotch whisky afore each man, and precious little 
left by closing time !’ ” 

“A hard-drinking lot then?” 

“Wonderful at their liquor. I tell you, zur, it’s good 
for me! Now I’ve got used to them and their funny 
ways, I wish they’d stay for ever. Speaking from a 
strictly business point of view, that is. But soon they’ll 
find out they’ve lost their money and they’ll jack it up. 
’Tes not in reason as they can go on, though they do 
seem so full of hope and certainty, as you mind to up ! 
But I know.” 

He was obviously pleased with my interest in his 


138 


THE AIR PIRATE 


talk. I wondered what he would have said if he had 
known who I was and why I was there? Under a 
calm exterior, a professor munching potato pasty! I 
was filled with a furious excitement. The man's gossip 
was worth a sovereign a word. Here was, moment by 
moment, what looked like complete confirmation of 
our suspicions. And yet, even as I realized this, I 
realized also how infernally clever the scheme was. 
Without the clue which Danjuro and myself alone 
possessed, there was nothing in the world to connect 
Helzephron and Tregeraint with the business that was 
ruffling the calm of two continents. 

It was not my game to ask more direct questions 
than I could help. It was better to let the racy stream 
flow on, with a word of comment now and then. I 
ventured a calculated one now. 

“Fools and their money are soon parted," said I. 

“You may say that, zur! And they’ve poured out 
money like water. Electric light, oal sorts o’ cases 
full of new-fangled machinery, and that mystery made 
about the silly old mine you’d think it was a seam of 
diamonds." 

“It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good, Mr. 
Trewhella!" I rose from the table as I spoke. “But 
what you say about a dozen or more gentlemen drink- 
ing nearly a bottle of whisky each rather surprises me. 
I’m no foe to honest enjoyment, but . . 


THE AIR PIRATE 189 

I put on a slight primness of manner, as became 
the character I sustained. 

The landlord nodded vigorously. “ ’Tes so!” he 
agreed, “and most onusual. They be gentlefolk, sure 
’nuff, but shall I tell ’ee what I think?” 

“What’s that?” 

“I think as most of ’em’s dropped out, so to speak. 
I shouldn’t be frightened if as their families didn’t 
have anything to say to ’em, and they’ve nowhere much 
else to go. Mr. Helzephron knows what he’s about, 
he do. I judge by a kind o’ reckless way they have, 
’specially the younger gentlemen. They don’t seem to 
mind about ordinary things same as most. Well, I sup- 
pose this fool tin-mining keeps ’em out of mischief.” 

I wondered. 

When I set out upon the return journey I took an- 
other route. I found from the landlord that by skirt- 
ing the coast for a mile in the direction of St. Ives I 
could come upon a moorland path that would take me 
to the little railway-station of St. Erth. I could then 
catch a train for Penzance. My ostensible reason was 
to vary my walk, my real one that by this change of 
plan I should pass by and have a view of Tregeraint 
Mine and the Manor House. 

“Not that you’ll see much or get close,” said Mr. 
Trewhella. 

“How is that?” I asked. 


140 


THE AIR PIRATE 


"I told you that Mr. Helzephron” — apparently the 
hawk-faced man had dropped his military title in 
Cornwall — “do make a mystery of his peddling mine. 
He goes further than that. The mine buildings and 
the house are surrounded by two fences of barbed- 
wire and the Manor by a high wall. ‘Trespassers/ 
notice boards belong to say, ‘will be prosecuted with 
the utmost rigor of the law* !” 

“Well, I shan’t attempt to trespass, Mr. Trewhella!” 

The landlord laughed. “Mine prospectin’s not in 
the way of a larned gentleman like yourself. Maybe 
it’s as well. Mr. Helzephron has got two dogs he 
turns out at night, and terrible ugly customers they be. 
Mr. Vargus do tell me that they be Tibetan mastiffs, 
which am the largest dogs in the world. They look 
like a sour-faced Newfoundland with heavy ears, only 
bigger/’ 

I tramped away from “The Miners’ Arms.” Al- 
though I recognized the fact that we were only at the 
fringe of discovery, my mind was made up. Thick 
darkness surrounded me, but I was convinced beyond 
a shadow of a doubt that Major Helzephron, and no 
other, was the man for whom the whole world was 
hunting. 

And as I thought of him and the crew of lost and 
reckless men who did his will, the fair landscape 
seemed to darken, the sweet airs to be tainted. . . . 

The path I traversed was the coastguard’s path, as 


THE AIR PIRATE 


141 


I could see by the white-washed boulders to serve as a 
guide by night. It was never more than two or three 
yards away from the brink of the savage precipices that 
fell for two hundred and fifty feet sheer to the water. 
The ocean was on my left; on the right the great hill, 
known as Carne Zerran, towered up, and the edge of 
the high moors cut the sky. On that side it was as 
though one were walking at the bottom of a cup. 

After about half a mile of the path, it suddenly left 
the cliff edge, and turned inland. For several hundred 
yards the brink was guarded by a semicircle of barbed- 
wire fence, which made it impossible to approach. A 
notice board informed the wayfarer that here, owing to 
old mining operations, the cliff was extremely danger- 
ous. 

It looked so, indeed. The edge was broken and ir- 
regular. I saw that it ran out in a curious headland 
for a considerably way, a mere wall of rock with a 
razor-back path on the top, which curved round again 
and ran parallel to the cliff on which I was, making a 
mighty chasm from which rose the cries of innumer- 
able sea-birds. There was a narrow mouth seawards, 
and another headland jutted out to make a cove like 
the one at the inn, though that, of course, had no wind- 
ing canon at the end. 

I crept up to the brink, where the wire fence began, 
and, lying down, with one arm round the first post, 
peered over. 


142 


THE AIR PIRATE 


It was a terrible place. The rock overhung so for 
hundreds of yards that I could not see the bottom. But 
the other side of the canon was clear to view, a great 
wall of black rock, where sea-hawks nested, and in- 
accessible to the boldest climber. To the right the cove 
seemed to be of fair size from horn to horn, but it was 
no tranquil spot like the one at the back of the inn. 
Even on a calm day like the present, the Atlantic 
ground swell poured in with tremendous force, and 
was broken with ferocious whirlpools and spray-foun- 
tains by toothed rock-ledges a foot or two below the 
surface. The smallest boat could not have entered 
Tregeraint Cove and lived there for a moment. 

For some reason or other the place affected me most 
unpleasantly, and it was with a little shudder that I 
retreated and skirted the fence which guarded the 
dangerous part of the cliff. When I had passed by 
this, the path turned at right angles and went inland. 

As I turned I saw, perhaps a furlong away, the 
house of Helzephron. 

It lay upon the eastern slope of Carne Zerran, an 
ancient, grim-looking house of granite, long, low, and 
of considerable size. A few stunted trees grew round 
about, and a fairly extensive domain of gardens, as I 
supposed, surrounded by a high wall. Using my prism 
glasses, I could see that this wall was topped by iron 
spikes. Of course, I was considerably below Treger- 
aint as on the sloping hill-side, and it lay quite open to 


THE AIR PIRATE 


143 

view. Higher up, and beyond the house, was the der- 
rick, engine-house and sheds of the mine, with here 
and there dumps of debris and various sheds. 

Although the wire fences, which I soon made out, 
went round the whole property, it lay quite open to 
the view. And when I had passed it, and climbed to 
the table-land of the moor beyond, I saw that it would 
be even more open to the eyes — spread out like a map, 
in short. 

One thing was already certain. There was nothing 
whatever in the nature of a hangar, no building that 
could possibly shelter even an ordinary four or five 
seater biplane, to say nothing of an air cruiser. 

I was not disappointed, because I had hardly ex- 
pected to meet with anything of the kind. The pirate 
ship, you will remember, was — like all the big long- 
distance airships — a cross between what used to be 
known in the old days as the “seaplane” and the “fly- 
ing-boat.” True, some of our war aeroplanes of quite 
large size were fitted with floats that could be raised, 
and wheels for land work in addition. 

This might be the case with the pirate. But it was 
not to be thought of for a moment that a man of 
Helzephron’s intelligence would dare to house his ex- 
traordinary ship where any one of my police could 
have investigated simply by showing his badge of 
office. The land policeman and the coastguards of 
the whole English coastline had already reported on. 


144 


THE AIR PIRATE 


every hangar and aerodrome in the kingdom. If 
Helzephron was the man I believed him, I was well 
aware that we were only at the beginning of the duel. 

I mounted up past the wire fences and the mine. I 
did not dare to use my glasses in passing, for I saw 
in the distance one or two figures of men strolling 
about by the engine-house and derrick. But when I 
was at last among the heather at the top, I lay down, 
and took a long survey of the buildings, drawing a 
careful map in my pocket-book, which might prove of 
great use later on. 

I waited half an hour at the little station of St. 
Erth, and then caught a train to Penzance, arriving at 
the hotel about tea-time. As I came into the lounge, 
after a wash and brush up, I saw Danjuro sitting in 
one corner. He had a pile of newspapers round him, 
and I saw that the London journals had arrived. 

He handed me one of them as I sat down. A para- 
graph among the police news was marked in pencil. 

Major Helzephron had been taken to Vine Street 
Police Station, and locked up for the night, charged 
with an aggravated assault on Mr. Wag Ashton at 
the Mille Colonnes Restaurant, on the evidence of M. 
Nicholas and the head- waiter. 

A medical man had attended the Court on behalf 
of the prosecutor, to say that Mr. Ashton was too 
unwell to appear until the morrow. Upon his prom- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


145 


ising to attend the Court the next day, Major Helze- 
phron was admitted to bail. 

“That gives us nearly two clear days,” said Danjuro. 
“When Ashton does appear, he will not press the case, 
and will own that he gave provocation; Helzephron 
will be fined, perhaps let off. I see that Honorable 
Ashton battered him a good deal! And now, your 
news, Sir John, if you please.” 


CHAPTER XI 

“the air wolves are hunting to-night !” 

H E made no comment, and did not interrupt me 
until I had completely finished, nor did his in- 
scrutable face give any indication of what he thought. 

“My own investigations/’ he said, “can be told in a 
few words. The small steamship which brings supplies 
to the cove behind the inn is the private property of 
Helzephron, and she is a great deal faster and much 
better engined than most people are aware. She lies 
at the little port of Hayle, which is on the main line 
from Plymouth to Penzance, in St. Ives Bay. At cer- 
tain times large quantities of petrol arrive in separate 
consignments from different parts of the country. The 
Sea Gurll is loaded to her capacity, and then makes the 
short voyage to Zerran Cove.” 

“That’s the last link !” I said. “No one could doubt 
now !” 

“There is another, still more interesting fact. Hayle 
was once a place of much greater importance than it 
is at present. There were large foundries and engi- 
146 


THE AIR PIRATE 


1T7 


neering works there in the past. These have been 
abandoned, owing to the silting up of the harbor, for 
many years, as only vessels of small draught can enter 
easily to-day. But the foundry buildings remain. 
From time to time a portion of them has been let for 
this or that small enterprise. Three years ago Helze- 
phron rented a part of the works and installed machin- 
ery. He had about twenty laborers, but the real 
work, whatever it was, took place in a large experi- 
mental shed, to which no one was admitted but he and 
his friends. They were already at Zerran, and used 
to drive over in motors every day. It was locally 
known that some new machinery for Wheal Tregeraint 
was being made. Many shippings took place from 
Hayle to Zerran Cove.” 

“But the ship, the Pirate Ship itself?” 

“Who can tell? We go step by step in the dark. 
Many theories have crossed my mind. I have dis- 
missed them all. I want to approach this, the most 
sinister problem of all, with a blank mind. We can 
do nothing till we are on the spot. Our preliminary 
work is over, but the real labor begins.” 

“A sinister problem enough,” I answered bitterly. 
“But not the most trouble to me. I tell you, Dan- 
juro, that as I lay among the heather and looked down 
upon that lonely house, as I thought of the devilish 
crew that live there, for a moment my heart turned to 
water, and the agony was more than I could endure. 


148 


THE AIR PIRATE 


She may be there, at this moment, defenseless and in 
the power . . 

I could not go on. I covered my face with my hands, 
and was nearer breaking down than ever before. Then 
I felt a hand on my shoulder. “It has never left my 
mind, either. Do not give way, for the moment of 
action has come. We go to the inn at Zerran to-night 
— within the hour.” 

“To-night!” 

“Yes. We cannot afford to waste a moment. Hel- 
zephron is kept in London. One great danger is re- 
moved from our path. We shall never have a better 
opportunity than now. In dealing with enemies such 
as ours, we must strike quickly and strongly when they 
think themselves most secure. Before dawn we must 
have penetrated the inmost secrets of Tregeraint.” 

I had by now grown accustomed to regard Danjuro 
as the leader of our enterprise. His decision was like 
cool water to a man dying of thirst in a desert. I 
stood up, absolutely myself. “There is, of course, no 
reason why we should not install ourselves at Zerran 
to-night instead of to-morrow morning. Trewhella 
won't mind,” I said. 

“I will order the car in an hour. Meanwhile, I have 
one or two things to do. Perhaps you will settle the 
hotel bill, Sir John, and tell the people that we are 
leaving? . . .” 

It was a stiflingly hot night as the car climbed up 


THE AIR PIRATE 


149 


to the moors, and in the glare of our headlights the 
gorse and heather by the roadside streamed swiftly 
like some golden cinema, leaving a more sable dark 
before and behind them. Danjuro, by my side, was 
lost in thought. The massive head hung upon his 
chest. About half-way on our journey he said a 
curious thing. ‘‘This would be an ideal night for an- 
other raid in the air-lanes of the Atlantic.” 

I did not answer, for I, also, was thinking deeply. 
So it was for to-night! We crossed swords, fired the 
first shot, what you will, with our cunning enemy in a 
few hours. What would they bring forth? 

I felt no fear, only a deep resolution not to fail in 
rescue and the execution of Justice. I was happier 
than I had been for days, for it is thought that turns 
the bones to pith and thins the blood, not action. And, 
as we flashed down the dark moor road to where the 
lights of the solitary inn showed yellow, I sent a word- 
less prayer to the Throne of Justice and Mercy. And, 
as if an answer was truly and instantly vouchsafed, 
there came into my mind these words from the ninety- 
first Psalm: “I will deliver thee from the snare of 
the fowler.” 

And after that I put mere abstract thought away 
from me. 

As we rolled up silently to the inn, we heard a 
great noise of singing from the long room. A tall 
woman came out of a side door, and I explained that 


150 


THE AIR PIRATE 


we had decided to come earlier than we had planned. 
She was a comely, good-humored dame, who made no 
trouble about our arrival. Both bedrooms and sitting- 
rooms were prepared, and when Thumbwood had taken 
the car round to the bam, he went upstairs to unpack 
the baggage. Mr. Trewhella appeared from the bar. 
I introduced Danjuro, and we arranged to have some 
supper at half-past ten. 

Meanwhile the singing continued in great volume, 
mingled with the twanging chords of a banjo. 

“Your guests are merry to-night,” said Danjuro. 

“It’s the gentlemen from the mine, sir,” said the 
landlord. “It’s one of their nights off, so to speak. 
Would you like to join ’em for half an hour?” 

“I think not on our first night. But they sing very 
well. As a foreigner I am interested in all English 
customs ; may I take a peep ? . . 

He had gone to the communicating door as he spoke, 
and pulling aside a red curtain which covered the 
upper half of glass, he looked through. I did the 
same. 

The long room was full of people and tobacco smoke. 
With a single exception, that of Mr. Vargus, they 
were all quite young men, ranging, I should say, from 
three-and- twenty to thirty. Most of them were dressed 
in old tweed suits, but the material and cut told their 
own tale, and spoke of the “right” kind of tailor. At 
first glance they might have been a collection of naval 


THE AIR PIRATE 


151 


officers or senior undergraduates, but only at first 
glance. My eyes roved from face to face, and on eacn 
I saw the loss of innocence and honor. Some were 
cunning; others had a brutality in ill accord with their 
youth, and there was a hard bravado in the eyes of all. 
It was sickening. One felt that one had suddenly 
looked upon something that should remain hidden. In 
that haze of smoke lurked all that was vaguely horrible, 
all that was monstrous and evil in the universe. 

I almost wanted to spit upon the floor, in an uncon- 
trollable gesture of repudiation. As I turned, I saw 
the landlord looking at me. 

“A promising lot of young devils,” said I. 

“You do see it too, zur?” he replied, and then Dan- 
juro touched my arm, and I turned to look again. A 
man, without a hat, had just entered the room from 
the outside. He sat in a chair which he had obviously 
occupied before, for he was in naval uniform, and his 
cap was lying there. He was a big, foolish-looking 
fellow, far gone in drink, but despite that his face was 
the only wholesome one there. 

“Who is that?” I whispered to Trewhella, as Mr. 
Vargus poured a generous allowance of rum into the 
new-comer’s glass. 

“That’s Billy Pengelly, our coastguard. The gentle- 
men do make a lot of him, and he’s none the better 
for’t, for Billy’s one as likes his drop. Still, he goes 
and sleeps it off, and he belong to be strong as a bull. 


1 52 


THE AIR PIRATE 


And in these lone parts there’s not often anyone to 
see if he’s on the watch or not.” 

A tall boy with a banjo took up his instrument and 
twanged the chords. 

“Now, gentlemen!” he shouted in a clear fresh tenor, 
“a chorus!” And without further preliminary he 
dashed into nothing less than the “Pirate’s Chanty” 
from “Treasure Island”: 

“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest! 

Yo, ho! and a bottle of rum!” 

The inn rocked with the volume of sound. I stood 
there fascinated, with a sort of horror. The thing — 
knowing what I knew — was so daring and grim that, 
more than anything else, it showed me with whom we 
had to deal. 

The application was lost upon Danjuro, but I told 
him what it meant in French, and he nodded with con- 
tracted eyes. 

“Drink, and the devil had done for the rest, 

Yo, ho! and a bottle of rum!” 

One would have thought that the room could not con- 
tain the noise, and that the very windows must be 
shattered, and in the very middle of it I heard some- 
thing else — the urgent, throbbing sound of an engine. 


THE AIR PIRATE 153 

Danjuro heard it as soon as I did. “Motor-bicycle,” 
he whispered. 

The sound grew insistent. Whoever was coming 
rode hell for leather and with the exhaust open. Then 
there was a succession of reports, a grinding noise, and 
the door of the bar was flung suddenly open. 

A tall man in goggles and overalls covered with dust 
walked in. As he did so, the pirate chant stopped with 
dramatic suddenness, and the singers jumped to their 
feet. Then he removed his glasses and his cap. 

It was Major Helzephron. 

They clustered round him thickly, and to each one 
he said a quiet word. In every case, when this hap- 
pened, the man spoken to nodded and vanished into the 
night. I could hear them running outside the inn. 
Lastly, Helzephron took Vargus by the arm, and they 
also passed out. I could see the man more plainly 
' than ever before. There was a great bruise round 
about the left eye, and the face was pale. But it blazed 
with will and purpose, and the cruel mouth was set in 
a malicious and abominable smile. 

“The wolves are hunting to-night l” Danjuro said 
to me two minutes later in my bedroom, and once 
again his face was like a demon of Old Japan. “Helze- 
phron will not appear at the police court to-morrow. 
He was arranged it somehow, and, after all, it is a 
trivial affair. He has ridden down from London dur- 
ing the day.” 


154 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“You mean that there is going to be a raid to-night ?” 

“I feel sure of it. Why else should Helzephron 
rush from London? And you observed the manner 
of his confederates. Don’t you see this — with all his 
cunning precautions the pirate is far too clever not to 
know that his career must be a short one. He cannot 
hope to remain concealed for any great length of time. 
His object is to obtain an immense fortune quickly. 
Already I calculate he has stolen jewels and money to 
the value of two hundred thousand pounds. A few 
more such coups and he can disband his crew and dis- 
appear for ever. Speed is the essence of his plan.” 

“But we must do something, we must stop it. . . 

“Our opportunity for action is improved, Sir John. 
In the first place, you must take steps to concentrate a 
fleet of patrol ships in this neighborhood.” 

“The car is here. I can write official telegrams in 
code to Plymouth and London. Within an hour the 
hinterland and the sea from here to Scilly can be cov- 
ered with a swarm of ships. St. Ives is only six miles 
away.” 

“Write the dispatches at once. I will call Thumb- 
wood, who must take them in, together with an official 
note from you to the postmaster.” 

I unlocked my portfolio and wrote the wires. There 
should be such an invasion of the air to-night as Far 
West Cornwall had never known ! 


THE AIR PIRATE 


155 


Thumbwood appeared, I gave him full instructions, 
and heard the Rolls-Royce start below. 

“And now, our part!” I said to Danjuro. 

“If we are right in our conjecture, the pirates will 
shortly leave Tregeraint on their expedition. How 
they will join the airship or where we don’t know. 
But we may safely assume that the house will be left in 
charge of one or at most two men. The others will 
all be wanted to man the ship; it is a simple calcu- 
lation. Here is your chance. You must get inside 
Tregeraint, obtain conclusive evidence, and if the poor 
lady is there alive, bring her away in safety. Perhaps 
to-night the Pirate Ship will make its last cruise! Our 
presence here, our identity, is quite unsuspected. A 
concentration of hostile airships in this neighborhood 
is the last thing Helzephron will expect to-night.” 

“And you, my friend?” 

“I would that I could come with you, for you go 
in danger of your life, but, as I see it, my work should 
be different. Someone, in view of its escape, must 
solve the mystery of the Pirate Ship itself. I have a 
theory already; I must put it to proof. There are 
boats in the cove below — I see that the moon is rising, 
I know what I must do. But, even so, I will come with 
you, Sir John, if you say so.” 

I shook my head. “No, I will go alone. It is my 
job.” 

Then Danjuro did a strange thing. He took my 


THE AIR PIRATE 


,156 

hand, bowed over it and kissed it! “You also are of 
the Samurai !” he said. 

In a minute more he carried in a heavy bag from his 
own bedroom, and produced from it a miscellany of 
objects. 

“Here is a twelve-shot automatic, with a dozen car- 
tridge clips,” he said. “You know all about the work- 
ing of it? I thought so. This pair of wire-cutters 
you will need for the barbed fence. These two keys 
with adjustable wards — you turn the milled screw at 
the end to adjust them — will open any ordinary lock. 
Here also is an extremely powerful steel lever, with a 
wedge end. In the hands of a strong man like your- 
self it will wrench open most windows or doors.” 

God knows there was no lightness in my heart, but 
in the usual English way at serious moments, I laughed. 

“The Complete Burglar !” I said. 

Danjuro looked at me with a glance as cold as ice. 

“I am in most deadly earnest, Sir John. You know 
what my experience has been. Well, I say deliberately 
that I have never been in such peril as you are going 
into.” 

“I meant nothing. And what is this?” I had taken 
up a little leather tube with a lens at one end. 

“A powerful electric torch. But it is more than 
that. You can instantly reverse it in your hand, and 
if you press this stud, the plated bottom flies open, and 
by means of a spring an ounce of cayenne pepper is 


THE AIR PIRATE 


157 


projected for several yards. It will stop anyone and 
operates instantaneously. A little thing I invented 
and have found most useful. These handcuffs are of 
papier mache and weigh practically nothing. They 
are from Japan and tough as the hardest steel. You 
may require them. And I never go on an expedition 
without this tiny bottle of chloroform and pad. You 
can stow everything about you with ease, and the 
combined weight is as nothing.” 

I did so, and it was as he said. Then a thought 
struck me. 

“Armed and prepared like this, I feel certain that 
I shall get in. But there are two Tibetan mastiffs let 
loose in the grounds at night. I can shoot them, but 
the noise of the report . . .” 

“That is provided for, Sir John. You see this 
gun?” 

“It looks like a short-barreled rook-rifle, except for 
the great thickness at the breech.” 

“It holds ten conical bullets. They are hollow-nosed 
and. expand on impact. The point is that the gun is 
perfectly noiseless. Powder is not used at all. The 
propelling power is liquefied carbonic-acid gas, and 
all that is heard at the moment of firing is a sharp snap. 
With this you can stalk the dogs and kill them easily 
enough. Do not forget your hunting flask and brandy 
and water. And for concentrated food, should you be 
detained in hiding, though I and Thumbwood will be 


158 


THE AIR PIRATE 


coming to look after you if you don’t appear by morn- 
ing, these solid chocolate cakes are invaluable.” 

All this was done quickly, and with the most busi- 
ness-like precision. Although my sense of humor 
told me that I was like the White Knight in “Alice in 
Wonderland,” I did realize that I should be a terribly 
nasty customer to tackle, and I was grateful. 

While we had been talking there came sounds from 
below of the closing of the inn, and shortly after we 
were called to supper. 

“Don’t you stay up any longer, Mr. Trewhella,” I 
said. “You must want your rest. As for us, we are 
late birds. Both I and my friend sometimes take a 
five minutes’ stroll last thing before we turn in. That 
won’t inconvenience you?” 

“Bless your life, no, zur. You do as you’re a mind 
here. ’Tesn’t like a town. The key of the front door 
hangs on a nail by the side. And if you should be 
going out later, Billy Pengelly’s in the empty pigsty, 
a sleeping off what he’s had, and there’s a bucket of 
cold water on the wall. In half an hour’s time or so 
I know as he’d be grateful for having it poured over 
’en!” 

We promised to perform what was evidently one of 
the amenities of this primitive place and Mr. Trewhella 
withdrew. 

“That coastguard may be useful to me,” Danjuro 
said. “And now, Sir John, I don’t want to hurry you, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


159 


but my advice is that you start. I don’t suppose that 
the band has left Tregeraint yet. But there are a hun- 
dred hiding-places on the moor all round the domain, 
and you may be able to see which way they go before 
you make your own attempt. I shall be on the trail 
in a very few minutes after you.” 

“And Charles? He will be back shortly.” 

“I shall need him. I know he would wish to be with 
you, Sir John, but I believe your chances are better 
alone. I shall not leave until he returns, provided he 
is not unduly detained.” 

He went to the window and pulled aside the curtain. 
“A waning moon,” he said, “which will be at full 
power about midnight, when there may be such a battle 
in the air as the world will hear with wonder !” 

I saw to my gear. It fitted about me very com- 
fortably. 

“Well, good-night,” I said, and without further 
words I went quietly out of the house. 

When I got a hundred yards away I turned and 
looked at it, all silvered in the moon. The air was 
sweet with the perfume of shy moorland flowers that 
give up all their treasure to the night. The Atlantic, 
far below, made a sound like fairy dreams, and on 
the distant slopes of Carne Zerran an owl sounded his 
melancholy oboe note. 

A lovely night, gentlemen ! 


CHAPTER XII 

THE KILLING OF MICHAEL FEDDON 

T HE moon was in its last quarter, and shed a 
faint spectral light over the moor as I came 
quietly up to the first of the barbed-wire fences that 
surrounded Tregeraint. I lay down in the heath, cer- 
tain that I was quite invisible, and waited. 

An hour had hardly elapsed since the band had left 
‘The Miners’ Arms.” Were they still here, or had 
they set out for their unknown destination? I could 
not hear a sound of any kind. From where I lay the 
high wall hid the house, and among the mine build- 
ings higher up there was neither light nor movement. 
Tregeraint might have been deserted for a hundred 
years, and the roaring company of the inn had van- 
ished into thin air. And strain my eyes as I would, 
there was no sign of the great Tibetan dogs. 

I remained motionless for a quarter of an hour by 
the illuminated dial of my watch. Then, as nothing 
happened, I began operations. The wire was tough 
and intricate, but ten minutes’ work with Danjuro’s 
160 


THE AIR PIRATE 


161 


powerful cutters disposed of it sufficiently for me to 
crawl through both the first and second fence without 
a scratch. I stood now in the lower portion of a 
large, oblong paddock of short grass, all gray in the 
moon. The surrounding wall of the Manor was about 
a hundred yards up the slope, and with the gas rifle 
on my arm I glided over the intervening space like a 
ghost. My boots were soled with india-rubber and I 
made no sound at all. 

I found the wall to be ten or eleven feet high. It 
was crowned with a cheval de frise of iron spikes, and, 
owing to its height and smooth surface, quite insur- 
mountable. But I knew there must be an entrance 
somewhere, and never expected to climb the barrier, 
and I began a cautious circuit. About half-way round 
the extent I came to a wooden door set in the wall. It 
was a mere postern, not more than five feet high, and 
had a barred grille in the center of about a foot square. 
I reflected that this must be a side or garden exit, and 
that the main gate was probably on the other side, 
facing the mine-head. But it was all the better for my 
purpose if this was so, and I took out my steel “jimmy” 
and prepared to tackle it. 

My intention was to prise it open with my tool, for 
I am a very powerful man, but suddenly another idea 
occurred to me. The bars of the grille were old and 
rusted. As there was no key-hole in the door, it was 
obviously secured by bolts. I inserted my lever, and 


162 


THE AIR PIRATE 


without putting out my full strength, and with little 
more sound than is made by the striking of a match, 
soon had three of the bars out of the wood and lying 
on the grass. 

My arms are long. I pushed my right through and 
my fingers, after a little groping, caught the handle 
of the bolt, which slid back easily enough. It had 
been oiled and showed that the door, which swung 
back at once, was in constant use. 

I stepped within, treading like a cat, and closed the 
door behind me. I stood in a large and neglected 
garden, where shrubs and flowers grew as they would 
and formed a miniature jungle, through which I could 
see the dark fagade of the house, now quite close. 
Everything was as still as death, and I listened with 
strained attention for several minutes. So far the 
work had been ridiculously easy, but as I crept up a 
moss-grown path towards the building every nerve 
was on the alert. I was not afraid, I think I can truly 
say so, but there was a chill on my soul. This old 
house, with its atmosphere of robbery and murder, 
its singular and formidable inhabitants, the unknown 
dangers of the approach, and, above all, the thought 
that Connie might be within it, all combined to wrap 
me in a terrible gloom of the spirit. Yet, looking back, 
I see that this was well. It hardened all my resolu- 
tion and made me terrible. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


163 


I had no thought of it then, but now I can see the 
grim horror of such a being as I had become approach- 
ing the house step by step. . . . 

All the lower windows were shuttered. There was 
not a gleam of light anywhere as I followed the path 
and came to the front, where there was a grass-grown 
gravel sweep and iron gates in the wall. This part 
of the house was plain and unadorned, save for a 
pillared porch and steps leading down to the drive. A 
thick growth of ivy covered it from the ground to the 
first-floor windows, and after I had gently tried the 
heavy front door, which, as I expected, was locked, 
this suggested a mode of entrance. If I could climb 
up and get on to the roof of the porch, it might be 
possible to force the central bedroom window, which 
I could see was unshuttered. 

The ivy was of ancient growth, the stems thick and 
tough. Any schoolboy could have mounted to the 
top of the porch. And any boy could have pushed back 
the catch of the window with the blade of his pocket- 
knife, opened it and stepped inside. 

I stood in a bedroom, dark, except for a little pool 
of moonlight by the window. I felt curtains, and I 
drew them before I switched on my torch. It was an 
ordinary bedroom, very untidy, furnished with a suite 
of painted deal. There was, however, a great saucer- 
bath full of water, and a pair of Indian clubs. The 
wall was hung with photographs of football teams, and 


164 


THE AIR PIRATE 


in an open drawer of the little dressing-table was a 
pile of gold and notes. 

Commonplace enough, like an undergraduate’s room 
at Oxford, but, nevertheless, it affected me unpleas- 
antly. It was like a sudden intimacy with something 
abominable, as I opened the door inch by inch, and 
felt for the powerful pistol in my pocket. My heart 
hung poised for an instant as I stepped out into a 
dark corridor, and then I gave a gasp, and my heart 
almost stopped beating. 

I stood at the head of broad, shallow stairs. Below 
was a large hall, dimly lit, and pouring up to me in a 
volume of sound came the melodious thunder of a 
piano played by a master hand ! 

At first my knees grew weak, and I clutched the 
shadowy banisters to save me from falling. Con- 
stance! Who could be playing in this evil house but 
she! I can never forget the agonized pang of mingled 
joy and horror that I felt. But as I crouched and 
listened, the fierce emotion passed away. Whoever 
was playing, it was not my girl. A lost soul made that 
music. 

I glided down the stairs. Certainly the wolves had 
left their lair, though in what manner I could not 
divine. The house was inhabited by but one or two 
people at most. All the doors along the corridor stood 
open, as if the rooms had been left in a hurry. The 


THE AIR PIRATE 165 

building felt deserted, empty of its usual inhabi- 
tants. . . . 

A dim light came from an open door at the right 
of the hall. I peeped in and saw a long shadowy room 
of great size. The walls were paneled and hung here 
and there with pictures, the floor carpeted. Two im- 
mense oak tables, with their complement of chairs, 
went up and down the center, and it hardly needed a 
butler’s hatch in the wall, doubtless communicating 
with the kitchen, to tell me that this was the dining- 
room of Helzephron and his bucaneers. 

At the far end, and opposite the entrance door, was 
a wide and lofty archway, half covered by a curtain. 
It led to another room beyond, and it was from this 
that a bright light streamed, and the sound of music 
came. 

I placed my gas rifle on the floor by the wall, took 
out my automatic, unlocking the safety catch, and 
went to the curtain on tiptoe. There was an alcove at 
the side, where some shelves had been, and this was 
perfectly dark. I marked it as a possible hiding-place, 
and then pulled the curtain aside for half an inch. 
Just as I did so there was a clash of prelude, and the 
pianist began the enchanted Third Ballade of Chopin. 

It was the man known to me as Vargus, the man 
with the smooth voice, the face that was evil and re- 
fined. He sat at a magnificent grand piano, swaying 
a little on his stool. . . . 


166 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Do you know that marvelous composition of Cho- 
pin^ ? Most people have heard it at least once or twice 
in their lives, played by some maestro. I have heard 
the renderings of the great pianists of the world, but 
none played as this man played. 

A terrible remorse informed the unearthly music. 
It was as though the player strained with every power 
of his being to recapture something irrevocably lost. 
When he came to that strange passage which has been 
so often compared to the soft cantering of a horse, the 
pain in the lovely chords was unbearable. The artist, 
Aubrey Beardsley, made a wonderful drawing of this 
passage — a spectral white charger ambling through a 
dark wood of pines, bearing a lady in a cloak of black 
velvet. The picture rose before my eyes as I stood, 
but it flashed away, and words of awful significance 
took its place in my mind and fitted themselves to the 
closing chords. . . . 

“Night and day he was among the tombs , and on 
the hills , crying oat and beating himself with stones ” 

As you may know, the piece ends in a furious welter 
of sound. It had just concluded, and the player sat 
motionless as a wax doll, when another figure heaved 
itself into my line of vision, a burly giant, with red 
hair and a heavy, sullen face. 

“Now you've finished that 


row," he growled, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


167 


“we’d better be moving. We may get signals coming 
through soon. And I suppose I must feed the ca- 
naries !” 

I knew the man at once. There was no possibility 
of mistake. It was Michael Feddon, the famous Rugby 
international, and six years ago the idol of the public. 
It was said that he was the finest back that England 
had ever seen. In the height of his career he had been 
mixed up in a horrible, criminal scandal, and received 
five years’ penal servitude. 

I swallowed in my throat with loathing, but the next 
words drove all thought of Feddon’s career from my 
mind. 

“Everything is ready on a tray in the kitchen, and 
the soup is on the electric stove. It will be hot by 
now,” said Vargus, in his soft, creamy voice. 

“I’ll get it, and I wish the damned business was 
over. I said from the first that when the Chief brought 
those two women here we ran more risk than ever 
before. It’ll turn out badly yet. Mark my words, 
Vargus.” 

Vargus took up a bottle which stood on a table by 
the piano. It was brandy, and he poured out two 
glasses half full, adding soda from a siphon. 

“Here’s luck ; not a bit of it,” he said. “If all goes 
well to-night, a couple more expeditions will see us 
finished, with a hundred thousand each, and scattered 
all over the globe. We all have our fancies. The 


168 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Chief's is this Shepherd girl. Well, in another fort- 
night he’ll disappear with her. Every man to his 
taste.” 

Feddon swallowed his brandy at a gulp. “She’ll lead 
him a dance yet !” he said. “I never saw such a spit- 
fire. I hate going near her, and I wish it wasn’t my 
turn to stay at home. I’d tame her, though, if she were 
mine. I wouldn’t stand her pretty ways and the things 
she says, like the Chief does. He’s mad about the 
girl.” 

“And what would you do, my beefy friend?” said 
Vargus, with his abominable smile. 

Feddon touched his middle. He was wearing a 
leather belt. “Take this to her,” he said, “and beat 
her black and blue.” 

Vargus rose, grinning. “Well, get the food,” he 
said. “I’ll go down at once. You’ll find me in the 
wireless cabin.” 

Feddon lurched forward. I had just time to press 
myself into the alcove, when he came through the 
curtain and strode heavily through the room into the 
hall. 

Vargus went to a tall mirror by the piano, as I 
watched him breathlessly. He did something that I 
could not see, and it swung open like a door. There 
was the snap of an electric switch, and I saw him 
step into a lift, pull a rope, and sink out of sight, leav- 
ing the door open. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


169 


He could not have sunk ten feet when I was in the 
room. It was large and square, furnished with some- 
thing like luxury, and brilliantly lit with electric globes. 

There was an arm-chair in full view of the archway. 
I sat down, and it was still warm from its last occu- 
pant. That seemed to me amusing, and I smiled. 

Something clanked, a soft swishing noise changed 
to a distant rumble, and the lift came into sight. I 
had it covered, but it was empty — waiting for the man 
who was going to “feed the canaries.” 

I waited for him, too. There was a box of cigarettes 
close by. I lit one and smoked quietly. Then I heard 
him coming through the dining-room, his footsteps and 
the rattle of a tray. 

The half-drawn curtain bellied out and was pushed 
aside. Feddon stood there with the tray in his hands 
and the light shining on his ugly red hair. 

He saw me. His mouth opened and his eyes started 
out. He seemed unutterably foolish, like a great cod, 
and I laughed aloud. 

But he was quick, oh, quick and clever! Like the 
famous footballer that he was! In a second he had 
ducked, and the loaded tray was skimming across the 
room straight at my head, as he hurled himself after it, 
quick as a snake strikes. 

I was ready, though. He was not. My first shot 
broke his shoulder and stopped him for an instant. 


170 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Then, with a roar of pain and fury, he came on again, 
and I shot him through the heart when he was three 
feet away. 

Mr. Feddon would feed no more canaries. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SECRET THAT PUZZLED TWO CONTINENTS 

1 STOOD looking down at Michael Feddon’s body. 

I was stunned. For the man I had just killed I 
cared nothing, felt no emotion. I had saved him from 
the drop; that was all. But, though I had been con- 
vinced that Danjuro’s and my own suspicions were 
absolute fact, the full realization had come so suddenly 
that it clouded the mind. 

Constance was here, and she was unharmed ! 

I had, indeed, penetrated into the very center of this 
lair of the air-wolves, and already had enough evidence 
to hang the lot. For a minute the mingled joy and 
relief was so great that I could not grasp them. 

The brandy bottle of Mr. Vargus was still on the 
side table. I stepped over the body — the leather belt 
which he had proposed as an instrument of correc- 
tion for Constance was in full view — and helped my- 
self sparingly. Almost immediately my brain cleared. 

I listened intently. The two shots from my auto- 
matic had alarmed no one. The sinister house was as 


171 


THE AIR PIRATE 


m 

silent as before. It seemed quite certain that Feddon 
and Vargus alone remained to guard it. Even the 
two Tibetan mastiffs of which I had heard so much 
had disappeared. 

To my right, the tall mirror swung on its hinges, and 
the lift beyond was lit by a globe in the roof. To what 
it led I did not know, probably some cellar where poor 
Constance and her maid were imprisoned, though a 
lift seemed superfluous. At any rate, Vargus — the 
next person to tackle — was down there, and it was 
long odds that I could not get the better of him. 
Moreover, and this was in my favor, he was expect- 
ing Feddon, and the arrival of the lift would not startle 
him at first, if he were close by. 

I examined the lift. It was electrically operated, 
and of a type perfectly familiar to me, fitted with an 
automatic magnetic brake. I saw that it traveled 
from its secret recess behind the mirror to one other 
spot only, stopping nowhere on the way. A touch of 
the rope started it, and it would stop itself when its 
journey was done. 

Well, there was no use waiting. Again I must 
plunge into the unknown. Connie was waiting! I 
wondered how honorable Danjuro was getting on, 
and laid myself long odds that he wasn’t having such 
an exciting time as I was! How he would stare if 
he came back to ‘‘The Miners’ Arms” in a few hours 
and found me there with Connie, and the artistic Mr. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


173 


Vargus cooling down in the patent papier mdche hand- 
cuffs from Japan! Mr. Trewhella of the inn had 
shown me a large pig, which he called “Gladys,” and 
of which he was fond. There was a vacant and 
stoutly-built sty next door, which would be an excel- 
lent place of confinement for the interpreter of Chopin ! 

... Yes, I thought these thoughts, even at that 
moment. I was madly exhilarated. Everything had 
gone so easily and well. I stepped into the lift hum- 
ming a song. It was the old chanty that the pirates 
had roared in the inn two short hours ago : 

“Fifteen men on the dead mans chest! 9 

There was a looking-glass on one side of the lift — 
probably the thing had been bought entire at some 
sale — and I saw myself in it. The song died away. 
Whose was this grim and terrible face, gashed with 
deep lines, with eyes that smoldered with a red light? 
Mine? I have told you how Danjuro looked when the 
bloodhound that he was emerged for an instant from 
behind the bland Oriental mask. There was not a pin 
to choose between us. 

The lift sank slowly. Every second I expected the 
soft jerk of its stopping. But the seconds went on. 
Down and down, what cellar was it that lay so low? 
Were we dropping to the center of the earth? It 
seemed an age before the motion slowed, and I had 
already obtained an inkling of the truth when a dim 


174 


THE AIR PIRATE 


archway rose up before me, and the machine came 
to rest. 

This was no cellar. I was deep down in Tregeraint 
Mine, which must run under the house itself! In 
the necessity for fox-like caution, I did not follow 
out the thought — not yet. But I believe that the sub- 
conscious brain had already seen far into the mys- 
tery. . . . 

I stepped out into a mine cutting. The walls were 
cut in the rock, and the roof here and there shored 
up with heavy timber props. It was wide enough for 
two men to walk abreast, and quite eight feet high. 
Every fifteen yards or so hung a roughly-wired elec- 
tric lamp, and the floor was beaten hard by the pas- 
sage of many feet. The air was hot and stagnant. 

I prowled down this passage without a sound, my 
pistol in my hand, ready to shoot at sight, but for 
what seemed an interminable time I met no one, and 
saw nothing but the damp walls, here and there spar- 
kling with yellow pyrites and the green of copper. 

There came at length a rough wooden door, which 
swung easily open, and beyond a much narrower and 
higher passage than before, a more natural cleft in 
the immemorial rock, it seemed, owing nothing to the 
agency of human hands. It dripped with water. 
Hitherto I had been walking on a level, now I trod 
a fairly steep descent, while the path was no longer 
straight, but full of fantastic twistings. Each mo- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


175 


ment the air grew cooler, and each moment a deep, 
murmurous noise, like very faint and muffled drums, 
grew louder. 

The lights, now suspended from a thick and tarry 
cable, were less frequent than at first, and the place 
was full of shadows. But as for the noise, that could 
only be one thing, the Atlantic ground swell. I was ap- 
proaching the sea, doubtless by one of the old mine 
“adits,” made for ventilation many years ago and long 
before the invention of the electric fan. 

The narrow way ended in a door. It was latched 
but not locked, and I pushed it slowly open. Im- 
mediately there was a sense of vast and gloomy space. 
I say “gloomy,” for it was not absolutely dark. Here 
and there hung dim, yellow lights. . . . 

Advancing a step or two upon a floor of hard earth 
on sand, I found myself in a vast cavern. It seemed 
as large as the shell of a cathedral, and for organ 
there was the plangent, echoing sound of sea waves. 
The sound came from my right, and was carried on a 
current of sweet, brine-laden air. Peering through the 
darkness, I seemed to be aware of a faint, ghostly 
radiance, a considerable distance away. 

I had lost the capacity for amazement, but not of 
quick thinking. In a lightning flash of realization 
I knew that I had penetrated to the heart of Helze- 
phron’s secret, even before my thoughts arranged them- 
selves in sequence. And then, as near as possible 


176 THE AIR PIRATE 

coincident with my stepping through the door, I heard 
a shout. 

Someone had seen me. . . . 

The shout came from the other side of the long, 
aisle-shaped cave. Simultaneously, half-way up the 
side, at a height of thirty feet from the floor, there was 
a sudden illumination. I saw a broad ledge in the 
wall, railed round, with a ladder staircase descending 
from it. A little black figure was leaning over the 
rail, and it was from this that the shouting came. It 
did not need his words to tell me that here was a wire- 
less station. I could see the drum and the battery shelf 
quite distinctly. 

“A signal!” he shouted, and I knew that he took 
me for the dead man above. ‘‘They're coming back! 
The sky swarms with armed patrols and warships. 
They’ve had to run for it, but the Chief thinks he’s 
shaken them off. I must switch on the guides!” 

I gave an answering shout, keying my voice down 
to something like Feddon’s bass growl. 

“It’s C.Q.D. ! — C.Q.D. !” came in a shrill voice of 
alarm, and Mr. Vargus ran down the ladder like an 
ape. 

C.Q.D.! The signal of “extreme danger.” Well, 
I rather thought it was! 

Where I stood I was in deep shadow, and my face 
could not possibly be seen. I was much the same 
height and build as the dead man, and Vargus ran 


THE AIR PIRATE 


177 


down the cave without the least suspicion. He had 
gone to his left, my right, to where I had already 
seen a pale light, and I followed him, more slowly, at 
a distance of some ten yards. It was a natural in- 
stinct enough. My only idea was to silence him, find 
Constance, and fly from the horrible place. I could 
not know that I was making a fatal mistake. 

I was running forward into complete understanding. 
The great cave turned a little to the right. It opened 
out every second until at length I saw the mouth, wide 
as that of the largest-sized hangar on an aerodrome, 
flooded with moonlight! 

Opposite, sixty yards away, was a precipitous wall 
of black rock; between it and the mouth of the cave 
a terrible chasm, which fell sheer to the water. It was 
all clear now. Far above, on the top of the cliffs, 
was that fenced-in part with the “dangerous” notice 
boards. You will remember that I had lain down by 
the side of this fence and peered downwards. I had 
looked into the same gulf that I was now looking into- 
from a much lower altitude. And the rock there over- 
hung so greatly that there was no possible indication 
of the cave mouth where I now stood. 

Moreover, the cave itself turned inward from the 
sea, running parallel to the cliff. From the sea , as 
from the land , the opening of the cave was entirely 
hidden. 

Vargus was fumbling at a switch-board. He pulled 


178 


THE AIR PIRATE 


down a vulcanite handle ; there was a green spark, and 
lights at the top, bottom and sides of the entrance 
glowed out brightly. 

Imagine an illuminated rabbit-hole in the side of a 
railway embankment, and you have an exact miniature 
of what this vast secret cave had now become. Go a 
little further and think of a bat whose lair was in 
this hole, and was guided to it by the lights. . . . 

Vargus snapped another and smaller switch. I 
watched him with a sense of complete detachment. 
I knew, as well as if I had been told, that he was 
lighting guiding lamps somewhere on the two head- 
lands that guarded the entrance to the cave outside. 
No thought of danger came to me; I think joy at this 
complete discovery, and wonder at the stupendous cun- 
ning and achievement of it all were my only emotions. 

“They may be here at any moment, Feddon. I tell 
you I don’t like it at all. I told the Chief that it was 
madness not to lie low for a bit. But you know what 
he is. The Government has got the tip somehow, the 
Cornish seas are humming with enemies. That fellow, 
Custance, is smart as they make them. . . .” 

He was moving towards me as these words came 
from him in a nervous, disjointed stream of words. 
Then he saw me, and stopped bang in the middle 
of a sentence. 

It was my moment. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


179 


“How do you do, Mr. Vargus,” I said. “You men- 
tioned my name. Indeed, you paid me a compliment 
for which I thank you. I thought I’d drop in for a 
chat. Sorry to find Major Helzephron out.” 

I never saw a man in such deadly fear. His face 
went the color of cheese, and a horrible choking noise 
began in his throat. He staggered to within a yard 
of the brink ; another step and he would have plunged 
into the abyss. 

“You, you, you!” he said, the last word in a dread- 
ful whisper. 

“The Oxford professor — yes. Mr. Vargus, I am 
a lover of music, and you have entertained me royally 
to-night. But you have played Chopin for the last 
time in this world.” 

I lifted the pistol and covered his heart. His yellow 
mask quivered and was still. “Quickly, please,” he 
said, and there was even a faint smile of relief about 
his pallid lips. 

He could face death gladly, and I knew why. To 
have shot him there and cast his body to the void 
would have been a mercy. I had other uses for Mr. 
Vargus. 

My pistol hand was steady as a rock. With the left 
I took out Danjuro’s handcuffs and walked up to him. 

“Not yet,” I said, when I was within a foot. 

He saw what I meant. As comprehension leapt 
into his eyes he tried to step back. He nearly did it, 


180 


THE AIR PIRATE 


but I was just too quick for him. I caught his ankle 
with the crook of my right foot, and he crashed on 
his back with his head and shoulders actually over the 
chasm. Before he could move again I had jerked him 
backwards by the legs, and had him handcuffed. 

I pulled him to his feet by his collar, and half 
marched, half carried him back into the cave. He 
was nothing more than a bundle of clothes in my 
hands. 

“Now,” I said, “take me at once to the place where 
Miss Shepherd is confined, and, though I make no 
promises, it may go less hardly with you than the 
rest.” 

He twisted his head and tried to look me in the face. 
“If I do, will you shoot me?” he whispered, fawning 
on me like a beaten dog. “For God’s sake shoot me, 
or give me an opportunity to shoot myself.” 

“The hangman will save you the trouble,” I an- 
swered brutally. “Now then, march!” He gave a 
great wail of despair. 

“Ah, you don’t know what I was once!” he cried, 
and there was such a horror of remorse, a damnation 
so profound in that cry of agony, that a fiend would 
have been moved. 

“I heard you play the Third Ballade,” I answered, 
and my voice was no longer firm. 

“Death, please, Death.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


181 


“Take me quickly to Miss Shepherd. Then per- 
haps — I can’t kill you myself, but . . 

It was as though my words poured a new life into 
his veins. His knees still knocked together in a loath- 
some paralysis, but he made effort to shamble forward. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE AIR PIRATE AT LAST 

V ARGUS was silent now. Our feet made no 
noise upon the sandy floor of the cave. It was 
then that I heard something like a cat purring. 

Unconsciously I stopped to listen. No, it wasn’t a 
cat, it was the faint drone of some night beetle; it 
was . . . 

On the right wall of the cavern, remember that my 
back was turned to its mouth and the sea — there was 
a sudden flash of white light. 

The rest happened in five seconds. 

The light leapt out from the wall, and instanta- 
neously the vast vaulted place was brilliantly illumi- 
nated. I had a fleeting vision of wooden galleries, a 
workshop and smithy, piles of stores, and then I 
wheeled round with a shout of terror. The drone had 
leapt up to a deep, menacing note, like the E string 
of a double bass. A circular furnace of white light 
in the center of a gigantic shadow rushed at me with 
incredible speed. 

A blast of wind struck me like the shell from a six- 
182 


THE AIR PIRATE 


183 


inch gun; the drone rose to the echoing shout of an 
army as the Pirate Airship entered the cave that was 
its home. 

I had just the millionth part of a second in which to 
realize the truth before my head struck; the wind 
seemed to tear out my very vitals, and I knew nothing 
more. 

Once, when I was a boy at the seaside in Wales, I 
dived into a deep rock pool, and, deceived by the 
clearness of the water, hit my head against a sub- 
merged ledge, and for several seconds was stunned. 
There was no one with me, but, fortunately, I recov- 
ered in time, and with bursting lungs regained the 
surface. 

The experience was repeated now, or so it seemed, 
with a curious subconscious memory. I thought that 
I was rushing violently upwards towards the light out 
of a well of darkness. Each moment the radiance in- 
creased and my speed grew greater. There was a 
sound as of many waters in my ears. 

I opened my ears. The light was brilliant, painful. 
Also, it moved and flashed, and so it was not the sun 
of twenty years before beating down. . . . 

Someone spoke: ‘‘Yes, it’s the man himself. He’s 
shaved off his mustache, and his hair and skin are 
dyed. He’s a fair chap really. Look at his lower 
neck and chest. It’s Sir John Custance right enough!” 


184 


THE AIR PIRATE 


I lay and listened. Although I heard every word, 
and perceived that an electric torch was dancing about, 
the conversation hardly seemed to concern me. 

There was another voice : “Vargus said he admitted 
it, but Vargus has fainted again.” 

Hands felt me all over. Things were taken from 
my pockets, and there were sharp exclamations of 
surprise. Somebody gave a long, low whistle. 

“No bones broken. His eyes are opening. Give me 
that flash, Gascoigne.” 

Someone poured brandy down my throat — I knew it 
was brandy — and I moved my limbs and groaned. 

Then I heard a shout as a door that I could not 
see was burst open. “Feddon’s killed!” came in a 
high, excited voice. “Poor old Feddy’s shot through 
the heart.” 

I think it was at this precise moment that I regained 
full consciousness, and realized that I was not badly 
hurt. My whole body felt as if it had been severely 
beaten, but instinct told me that there was no real dam- 
age. As for the shock, it was not until several hours 
afterwards that I felt its effect, though then it meant 
collapse. 

I lay perfectly still, this time by design, and closed 
my eyes. Everything had come back to me; I re- 
membered every incident from the moment I had cut 
the barbed wire to that when I had escaped, by a mir- 
acle, death from the returning Pirate Ship. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


185 


My first thought was one of bitter disappointment. 
So they had run the gauntlet, after all! The mystery 
ship had escaped the swarm of cruisers and patrol boats 
that were looking for her. I believe I ground my teeth 
with rage. A second afterwards I groaned out loud. 
The sound was wrung from my very heart. I was too 
late to rescue Constance now. . . . 

All round me there was a buzz of low-pitched voices. 
Without any trouble at all, I could detect the note of 
fear and consternation. And it was tonic. My plight 
seemed desperate enough, but there was a chance yet. 
They had taken my weapons from me, but others might 
prove as valuable. The pirates were disorganized, 
alarmed. Well, craft should meet craft! Surely, the 
moment was favorable ? 

I was in a dimly-lit place, surrounded by dark 
figures. How long I lay thus I do not know, probably 
for no great space of time. At any rate, I had not 
been in full possession of my faculties for many min- 
utes when a door opened, and a voice spoke in accents 
of authority. 

It was a voice that I had never heard before, but 
I knew whose it was. 

“I have made a careful examination of the house,” 
came in clear, well-bred tones, “and there is no one 
there. It is the same outside and all round the fence. 

I let the dogs loose and they discovered nothing.” 


186 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“How did this” — I was kicked brutally in the side — 
“get in, Chief?” asked a voice. 

“Cut the fence wire, and managed to open the door 
in the east wall. Then climbed the porch and entered 
through Feddon’s bedroom. The dogs followed the 
scent and showed. That doesn’t matter much now. 
The point is that he’s here.” 

“And we know what to deduce from that!” I 
heard, and pricked up my ears. My friend Mr. Vargus 
had revived then! There was a soft malignancy in 
his voice that made me shudder. 

“Vargus is right. It is fairly certain that the game’s 
up as far as this place is concerned. They’ve marked 
us down, sure enough. In a few minutes I shall take 
steps to find out exactly how much they do know. 
Meanwhile we appear to have some time before us, 
and we must carry out the emergency plan that we’ve 
so often rehearsed. Gascoigne, Jones and Sutton, 
Pointz, fill all the petrol tanks to full capacity, load 
emergency stores, examine and reverse ship. When 
finished, report to me in my room.” 

The men hurried away. 

“Philips and Minver get on to the moor and report 
any man or body of men advancing on the house. You 
will take rifles and act as outposts. At any sign of 
approach, don’t hesitate to fire. Then fall back on the 
house.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 187 

“Shall we take the dogs, Chief? They would be 
useful.” 

“No, I shall need them. The rest of you will hold 
the house till the last moment. Then get into the lift 
and come down. It will take them some time to find 
out the way and follow, while one man can hold the 
passages for any length of time. We shall all be 
fifty miles out at sea before anyone can break in down 
here, and all the swag is packed ready to go on board. 
Vargus, you will stay down here and help me in what 
I’ve got to do.” 

Several other men left the room. 

In a lower voice, thr ugh I heard every word, Helze- 
phron went on talkir g to his lieutenant. 

. . Mind you, I don’t actually expect an attack 
in force, but we must be prepared. For all we know, 
there may be a hundred men waiting on the moor. 
One thing is certain. They know where, or where- 
abouts we are, or that gentleman on the floor would 
not have got in, nor all those ships be cruising about 
outside. So we must be off with all we can take to 
our emergency base in the Hebrides. Once outside, 
nothing can touch us, of course, and we’d get up to 
sixteen thousand feet at once. Barometer readings 
make it pretty certain that it will be cloudy at dawn, 
and it’s a million chances to one against our even 
being seen.” 

I lay not three yards away. I had not noticed it 


188 


THE AIR PIRATE 


until now, but my ankles were tied together, and, weak 
as I was, any physical effort was impossible. Helze- 
phron had talked over his plans with an absolute dis- 
regard of my presence. He may or may not have 
known that I was conscious ; quite obviously he didn’t 
care twopence one way or the other. And that meant 
one thing and one thing only. 

Before the Pirate Ship fled from its lair for the last 
time John Custance would have ceased to exist in the 
body. 

“. . . Now for Sir John. How do you feel, Var- 
gus? You took a nasty toss, and it’s damned lucky 
for you we turned up when we did! Do you feel 
strong enough to drag Sir John into my room? If 
so, I’ll go ahead and turn on the lights.” 

“Pm quite strong enough for that,” said Mr. Var- 
gus, with a nasty laugh, and in a few seconds he had 
me by the heels, and was towing me like a log over 
an uneven floor. It was only by stiffening the muscles 
of my neck till they cracked that I could keep my 
head from bruising badly. Then a cloth of some sort 
was dropped on my face and tied round my head. I 
felt myself carried for a yard or two, put into a chair 
with an upright back, and then lashed securely to it 
by strong cords. 

‘Til call you when I want you again,” said the voice 
of Helzephron. “Go and help the others load the 
ship. And remember that we must take every round 


THE AIR PIRATE 


189 


of ammunition we can stow in her. Twenty-four 
hours’ rations will be ample. We can renew those at 
any time. Shells are quite another matter. Sacrifice 
everything to them.” 

A door closed. I heard the creak of a chair as 
Helzephron sat down. There was a long silence, and 
through the cloth I could feel that he was watching 
me. 

The duel to the death began. I was as a naked man 
before another with a sword. I braced every nerve 
and stiffened my will! 

“You are in a very unpleasant predicament, Sir 
John Cu stance.” 

The voice was passionless, even a little weary. 

“I think it’s mutual, Mr. Helzephron,” was my 
answer, and I put an accent on the “Mister.” He 
should have no honorable military title from me. 

“Well, that is possible. Indeed, I admit that you 
have seriously deranged my plans. But the trumps 
are mine, after all. With your intelligence you must 
be aware that you have a very short time to live.” 

“I don’t doubt that, but I dispute your estimate of 
your hand.” 

“May I ask why?” 

“With pleasure. I don’t care twopence about my 
own life in comparison with my duty to society. You 
care a good deal for yours, and you also have a short 
time in front of you. If it is any satisfaction to you 


190 


THE AIR PIRATE 


to know, you’re in a net from which even the par- 
ticular minor devils that preside over thieves can’t 
free you.” 

Thus I lied bravely. A good deal, I thought, might 
depend on my ability to get the scoundrel into a furious 
rage, and, anyway, it was a delight to insult him. 

A sharp breath told me that I had drawn blood. 

“You use dangerous language, Sir John. You’ll be 
sorry if you go on.” 

“Now, look here,” I rapped out, in the tone I should 
have used to an impudent office boy, “please under- 
stand that you can’t frighten me. I know that bound- 
ers of your type don’t understand a gentleman and how 
he feels about things. I only assure you that you will 
waste your time. And time ought ” — I said it with 
meaning — “to be worth more to you now than all the 
valuables you picked from the pockets of the Atlantis 
passengers.” 

He came up to me, and I thought that this was the 
moment. But he only tore the cloth from my head and 
returned to his chair. 

I looked round with interest. The room, no doubt 
part of the cavern system into which the mine had 
penetrated, was matchboarded all round. The board- 
ing was painted white, and a cluster of electrics hung 
from the ceiling. There was a carpet on the floor, a 
couple of arm-chairs, a writing-table, and a big steel 
safe. In one corner was another door than the en- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


191 


trance one, partly concealed by a green curtain hanging 
from a brass rod. 

Helzephron himself sat opposite. The handsome, 
hawk-like face was badly bruised. He stared at me 
with concentrated malignancy. Then he smiled, with 
a flash of large white teeth. 

“Really, I should hardly have known you,” he said. 

“I should have recognized you anywhere, even with 
the bruises !’\ I replied. “Mr. Ashton left you your 
teeth, I see.” 

His face grew dark. He nodded twice. “I thought 
that,” he said, half to himself. 

“I saw the whole thing, and it was most amusing, 
Mr. Helzephron. I was sitting in the smaller arm of 
the gallery at the ‘Mille Colonnes/ behind a center- 
piece of flowers. I, and my companion , had concealed 
a periscope in the flowers, and got the whole thing 
framed, as it were. It gave a zest to the Burgundy. 
But I thought you’d have made a better fight of it!” 

The man leapt from his chair with a savage curse 
and took two steps towards me, with clenched first and 
lifted arm. 

I looked up in that convulsed and purple face. 
“Quite so!” I said quietly. “I’m tied up. It’s quite 
safe to hit me.” 

If he was going to torture me, and I had few il- 
lusions on the matter, I was having my innings now. 
He had been a gentleman once, he had been a brave 


192 


THE AIR PIRATE 


soldier. It was because I knew this that I could stab 
him. 

He didn't strike. He began to walk up and down 
the room, swallowing his rage with an almost super- 
human effort — being what he was. Perhaps shame 
helped him, perhaps it was cunning, but he sat down 
again, and though he trembled, his voice was calm. 

“So you think me a coward, do you?" he said. 
“I’ll do you the justice to say that you’ re none." 

My mind was working with an insight that it has 
never possessed before or since. The key to the 
man’s psychology was in my hand at last. 

All criminals are vain. In great criminals vanity 
assumes colossal proportions until it becomes a real 
madness. Criminologists call it megalomania. It is 
egotism fostered and indulged to the point of mon- 
strosity, when all moral considerations are swept away, 
and the subject thinks himself superior to all law, and 
glories in his greatness. 

Lord of himself, that heritage of woe! I think 
Byron said that. 

“You’ve correctly expressed me," I told him. 

“Perhaps your detective work has not gone so far 
as to inform you that I hold the Victoria Cross?" 
Yes! he was mad! No sane man of his extraction 
would have said that. 

“It is a distinction above all others, Mr. Helzephron. 
And you’ll have another very soon. Indeed, you’ll 


THE AIR PIRATE 


193 


never be forgotten. You’ll be historic as the one 
V.C. who was degraded. They’ll do it the day before 
they hang you at Pentonville, and it will be in the 
Gazette” 

He grew quite white, whether from anger or shame 
I do not know. But I went on. Something inside 
me that was not myself seemed to be speaking. 

“You’ve been living quite an artificial life, you see, 
surrounded by your amicable young friends and the 
artistic Mr. Vargus. You, no doubt, think of your- 
self as of a very glorious order. Making war on 
society, Ajax defying the thunder, King of the air, 
and all that sort of thing. I’ll bet anything you’ve 
compared yourself to Napoleon a thousand times! It’s 
the way the late Kaiser of Germany fell. It’s called 
megalomania. But you aren’t anything of the sort, 
you know. You are a cowardly thief, who steals and 
murders for the sake of his pocket. You asked me 
a question and I’ve answered it.” 

He heard each word. His eyes became glassy and 
his jaw dropped. For all the world he was like an evil 
child who hears the truth about itself, and all the 
power was wiped out of his face as chalk marks are 
wiped off a blackboard. 

He got up abruptly, and left the room by the cur- 
tained door. He was away for ten minutes. When he 
returned he was his old self, but with an addition — he 
had been drinking back his devilishness. There was 


194 


THE AIR PIRATE 


a strong odor of brandy as he entered. His eyes were 
full and liquid, and he was amazingly vital. I knew 
that I could hurt him no longer. He wore impene- 
trable armor. He sat down and lit a cigarette. He 
smiled with an evil good-humor. It was his hour 
now. 

“Well, we’ve got acquainted at last,” he began in 
an easy conversational tone. “You’ve been excessively 
clever in hunting me down, and your powers of in- 
sult are exceptional. I admit again that you have 
smoked me out here, but as to putting an end to my 
activities, that’s a very different story. Your people 
can’t get at me once I’m out of this snug retreat, and 
they can’t force an entry here until I’m gone. So 
much as between the Commissioner of Police and the 
Pirate. You’ve had your say and I’ve had mine.” 

“Then there is nothing more to be said.” 

“Excuse me, as man to man, there’s a good deal. I 
purchased an evening paper on the afternoon of the 
evening when I was attacked by your hired bully.” 

At last the conversation was growing interesting. 

“With stolen money?” I asked impudently. But it 
fell dead flat. I don’t think he even heard me. 

“The paper made public some news that I had 
already gathered from another source. The news of 
your engagement, Sir John Custance.” 

We stared at each other in dead silence for half a 
minute. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


195 


“To Miss Constance Shepherd,” he went on. 

I said nothing. 

“* • . Who at this moment is not twenty yards away 
from you, and who will fly with me to-night to where 
all your police boats will never find us.” 

“By force.” 

“Well, up to the present I admit that I have had to 
take the law into my own hands. I am a man who 
believes in getting what he wants. Your arrival, the 
fact that you’re my guest for a short time, has given 
my thoughts quite a new direction.” 

I saw that there was a deep and sinister meaning 
in what he said, but not an inkling of the abominable 
truth came to me. He understood that from my face, 
and he laughed out loud. 

“Oh, this is going to be enormously refreshing!” 
he cried. “This is going to make everything worth 
while !” 

My heart turned to stone as I watched that unholy 
merriment. 

When he had finished laughing, he said: “Miss 
Shepherd does not know as yet that I have the honor 
of entertaining you. I am about to inform her. And 
then, if she wishes it, as no doubt she will, you must 
really meet. Journeys end in lovers’ meetings, they 
say.” 

He was about to add something when there was a 
knock at the door. Mr. Vargus came in. 


196 


THE AIR PIRATE 


“All loaded,” he said, looking nervously at me, as 
If wondering what had passed during his absence. 
“All loaded and everything ready for a start. The 
others have gone up to the house.” 

“Well, there’s nothing to report, or they would have 
telephoned down. There is no hurry for an hour 
yet. . . ” 

Helzephron took the short man by the arm and drew 
him into a corner of the room. They whispered to- 
gether for nearly ten minutes. I could not catch a 
word. 

Then Vargus nodded with an air of triumphant com- 
prehension, and left the room. 

“On second thoughts,” said Helzephron, “I am not 
going to prepare Miss Shepherd. We will let it be 
in the nature of a pleasant surprise.” 

He disappeared through the green-curtained door. 


CHAPTER XV 


LED OUT TO DIE 

I N relating what is immediately to follow I shall do 
so with as plain and unvarnished a narrative as my 
pen can command. You will read of what Constance 
and I endured, but do not ask me to do more than hint 
at the anger of my soul. It is impossible to describe, 
at least it would require the pen of a Dante or a 
Milton, nor would I describe it if I could. It is bad 
enough to live that hour again even faintly and in 
imagination. To call it up into full memory — soul 
memory — is a task for which I have not the least in- 
clination. You shall, therefore, have the facts with 
very little comment upon them. 

I think it's about all you’ll need. 

Helzephron was away for a considerable time. Dur- 
ing his absence Vargus peeped in once and looked at 
me. I won’t describe his face. 

When the hawk- faced man returned, he dragged my 
chair to the far end of the room, and pushed the writ- 
ing-table in front of it to form a barrier. There was 
a deliberation in all he did that was inexpressibly 
197 


198 


THE AIR PIRATE 


alarming. His lips were drawn in a tight smile, so 
that I could see the teeth. . . . 

He set a chair over against the wall opposite, and 
then he went again through the curtained door. A 
moment afterwards he entered, followed by Connie. 

The room grew whirlingly dark and cleared. I 
could not speak, for my throat seemed to be closing 
up, but I saw my girl very distinctly. 

She was, as I had never seen her, deadly pale, with 
large, dark rings under her eyes and all the joy of 
life ironed out of her sweet face. Yet she was not 
thinner and there were no lines. The color had gone 
from her cheeks and the luster from her hair, but I 
somehow thought that her physical health had not 
suffered alarmingly. 

When she spoke I knew that this was true, and I 
knew why. Her indomitable spirit remained. The 
sunny courage of the past had condensed within her 
soul and turned to unconquerable purpose. Her voice 
was so full of scorn that it cut even me like the lash 
of a whip. It was a marvel that the tall man could 
have borne it for a moment. 

But his eyes had a red light in them, like the eyes 
of a hound — mad. 

“What new devilry is this?” the girl said, as her 
eyes fell upon me, trussed up there behind the table. 
“Do you suppose that I want any further evidence to 
tell me from where you come and whom you serve?” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


199 


“Look at this gentleman ; look at him well.” 

“Another of your unhappy prisoners! So you add 
torture to your crimes. And you dare to make me 
witness it!” 

She turned in a fury of disgust and loathing, and 
made a step towards the door. But before she moved 
further — God bless her! — she said : “You have fallen 
into the hands of a very horrid scoundrel, sir, but . . 

At that I managed to cry out: “Connie, dearest, 
don’t you know me ?” 

I ought not to have been so sudden. I cursed my- 
self for it. It was just as if I had struck her down, 
for she reeled, and fell into the chair in a swoon. 

I myself was near to it. There was a rush as of 
cataracts, a sensation of drowning. When I recovered, 
the maid, Wilson, was ministering to her mistress; 
there was a sound of pouring liquid, though I could 
see nothing, for Helzephron stood directly in front 
of me, watching what went on. 

“Look here, Helzephron,” I said hoarsely. “This 
can't go on. For God’s sake stop it! Get her away 
before she recovers and do what you like to me.” I 
thought desperately for something that would move 
him. 

He turned round slowly. “Too late now,” he said 
slowly. “You’ve got to go through with it, both of 
you.” 


200 


THE AIR PIRATE 


The malice had faded out of his eyes. He spoke 
dreamily : 'There is no other way. . . .” 

He moved away and leant against the wall at the 
side, looking down moodily at Constance, who was 
coming to herself. Her eyes opened, and Helzephron 
made an impatient gesture with his arm. The maid, 
Wilson, vanished like a ghost. I could see that she, 
poor thing, went in terrible fear. 

I spoke out directly I thought Connie could under- 
stand. I was desperately determined to have my say. 
It might be the last chance. To my surprise, though 
I soon understood the reason, Helzephron did not in- 
terrupt. 

"Yes, it is I, Constance. I’m disguised ; that is why 
you didn’t know me. Darling, it’s going to be all 
right. Be brave a little longer!” 

I saw comprehension dawn in her eyes, and then they 
blazed out into love. "John! You’ve come at last. 
It’s been weary waiting. But you are tied up.” Her 
voice changed. "You’re in the power of this man, 
too!” 

"For this moment I may be; but that is nothing. 
He is tracked down and his hour has come. He knows 
it. I made a mistake and he captured me, but out- 
side the forces are converging, and for him the whole 
world is now no wider than this little room.” 

Helzephron made no sign. From his great height 


THE AIR PIRATE 


201 


he stared down at us like a stone figure. I doubt if he 
either saw or heard. 

“Tell me quickly — he has not ill-used you, he has 
not laid hands on you, hurt you. . . 

A bitter laugh burst from her. “He has stolen me 
away from life and kept me here a prisoner. But there 
has been food to eat, and the cage is gilded with the 
proceeds of his thefts. He knows well enough that 
if he dared to touch me I should kill myself. No power 
on earth and none of his cunning precautions could 
prevent it, and that also he knows. Thank God his 
time has come” 

“Tell me everything, quickly. A lot depends on 
it.” How could I explain that he was going to kill 
me, that he could and would do so long before there 
was any chance of help arriving? 

“He has dared,” she said, and I never knew that a 
woman's voice could be so hard, “dared to offer me 
what he calls love. The word is hideous in such a 
mouth. He has raved, threatened and implored me 
to — to marry him — to fly away with him and be his 
w r ife.” 

She shuddered terribly and sank back in the chair, 
as if exhausted. I racked my brains for words. 
What could I say or do? That she would kill her- 
self rather than yield an inch I was certain. But he 
could still prolong her torture. The chances were 
that he would get away in his marvelous ship for a 


202 


THE AIR PIRATE 


time. On the other hand, it might well be that the 
searching airships were in such force by now that 
even the Pirate Ship could not escape. There would 
be a battle in the air. She would be shot to pieces by 
our cruisers' heavy guns. And Connie would be on 
board. . . . 

What could I say? 

Helzephron stood up from the wall. With slow 
movements he lit a cigarette, but his hand was trem- 
bling as if in a palsy. He spoke to Constance. 

“You have already told me that you love Sir John 
Custance,” he said. “I heard that from your own 
lips two days ago. But dove' means many things. 
And you may well have said it to keep me at arm's 
length. Sir John Custance is here now, and in my 
power. What of him and you?" 

Connie looked at him for a moment without a word. 
There was not a trace of fear in her eyes. “I will 
tell you," she said at length. “That man is my man, 
and I am his woman from now until the end of time 
and for all eternity. You cannot understand, I know. 
But if words have meaning, mine are plain enough." 

Helzephron suddenly threw away his cigarette and 
gave what seemed to be a sigh of relief. The sound, 
the gesture, were startling. I could not under- 
stand. . . . 

“Well," he said, “that is another, and the last, il- 
lusion gone. My life has been a succession of lost 


THE AIR PIRATE 


203 


illusions, I think. I loved you, and I love you still, 
with all the force and power of a nature which, what- 
ever else it may be, is stronger than that of most men 
in this feeble world. I would have given you a love 
so rich, abundant and wonderful that you would have 
forgotten your passion for this man. Mine would have 
consumed it utterly. And you would have responded. 
You think not, but I know better. It would have been 
flame and flame, love. Now I see that it is indeed 
too late.” 

His tones were not raised; there was nothing par- 
ticularly eloquent in the actual words he spoke. But 
to me they tolled like a great bell — a bell that tolls 
while the iron gates of hell are opening slowly. . . . 

“Yes, too late!” Connie said quickly. “And you 
see it now ! It could never have been. And now you 
will let us go! Oh, be quick! Untie John, please do; 
it must be hurting him so!” 

For the first and last time that night two tears rolled 
down my cheeks. 

I suppose that for a brief space there had been some 
lingering nobility in Helzephron’s mind, some flicker 
of life in that dark soul. The man had not always 
been under the dominion of evil. 

But now I saw, without possibility of mistake, the 
final eclipse of good. It was a visible thing, the last 
awful act in the terrible drama of his life, and it took 


THE AIR PIRATE 


£04 

place before one’s eyes like crystals dissolving in a 
glass. 

He looked steadfastly at Constance. 

“Sir John can go,” he said, “for all the debt of 
ill-will I owe him, he can go from here unharmed. 
My dear girl, it rests entirely with you!” 

She did not understand. 

“Oh, then let him go now, at once.” 

“That man,” he answered, “lives, or dies a pecul- 
iarly unpleasant death; goes free, or in nothing but a 
heap of clothes in half an hour, as you shall decide, 
Constance.” 

By the slow dilation of her eyes, I think she knew 
what he would say. 

“It is like this,” he went on. “If I cannot have 
Love, the real thing, at least Fate has put it in my 
power to demand — and have! — the second best, the 
semblance of it. The moment that you give me your 
solemn promise to marry me, Sir John walks out on 
to the moor.” 

I gave Constance one swift, warning look. Would 
the man believe that another was as base as he him- 
self? Everything depended on that. 

“You cannot do it, Constance,” I said, with a care- 
ful tremor in my voice, trying to suggest a slight 
dawn of hope, and again I sent her a signal of cau- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


205 

Helzephron gave an almost imperceptible start, and 
a faint smile began to play about his cruel lips. 

The fish was rising. 

“It would be a martyrdom,” I went on. “What is 
my life worth — even to the State” — I thought that 
was a clever touch — “in exchange for such a sacri- 
fice?” 

Praise God for her quick wits! She saw that I 
was acting, and feel into her part with supreme natu- 
ralness. A wail of pain came from her, and she cov- 
ered her face with her hands. “I cannot let you die,” 
she cried. “Do I not love you? Is not your life of 
supreme value?” 

I spoke in a tone of hardly veiled eagerness : “But 
your own happiness, what of that?” 

Connie made a passionate gesture of renunciation. 
She turned to our torturer. “Sir,” she said, “have 
you no mercy, no compassion?” 

“I have nothing but one overmastering need.” 

“Then leave us. Let me be alone with Sir John for 
a few minutes.” She beckoned to him and he came, 
leaning his head low. 

“Go,” she whispered. “I cannot persuade him while 
you are here. Leave us alone and I will do my best.” 

The fool was wax in her hands. That one confi- 
dential whisper seemed to have transformed him. 

“Yes, Til go,” he said, but I heard every word. 


206 


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“I don’t think our friend will take much persuading! 
You may be glad to marry a man , after all !” 

He was half-way to the door when suspicion took 
hold of him. “How do I know that you won’t be up 
to some trick?” he snarled; “try to loose him or 
something? Not that there would be any chance of 
escape if you did.” 

“I give you my word of honor,” Connie •answered, 
“or you can tie me up, too. That would be the best 
way. Fasten me in this chair so that I can’t move.” 

Helzephron shook his head impatiently. Then the 
door banged and we were alone. 

I began to speak at once. There was no time to 
waste. 

“Dearest, it is good-by. We have managed to 
snatch these few moments for farewell.” 

Her face shone with love and courage as she smiled 
at me. “Is there no way, darling?” 

“None. This is the end. We have fooled that 
devil for a minute. When he returns and finds out 
the end will come quickly. Now, listen. . . .” 

In a few sentences I told her exactly how matters 
stood, and of my certainty that Helzephron’s course 
was almost run. Nor did I disguise from her that in 
any attack upon the Pirate Ship her own fate was 
sure. 

“What does it matter? I should kill myself, any- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


207 

how, rather than submit to one touch from him. I 
have the means ready. Oh, my love, I am prouder 
of you at this moment than I ever was !” 

How I rejoiced in her! Never for a single instant 
had she believed that I would let her do this thing. It 
was not even spoken of between us. It was worth 
while dying for love and trust like this l 

“And you see, dear love,” she went on, “it will 
not be long. We shall be together again in a few 
hours, never to part any more. ...” 

Very solemnly and quietly we said farewell. Neither 
of us was unhappy. A great exaltation and peace con- 
soled us, but the moment is too sacred for descrip- 
tion here. 

I gave one last look at her serene and radiant face, 
striving to image it upon my brain, so that it should 
be the last thing I saw, and then I called for Helzeph- 
ron with a strong voice. 

From the first instant that he stepped into the room 
and saw our faces, he knew the truth. 

He was very quiet, but his eyes shone again with 
the dull red light that you may sometimes see in a 
dog’s eyes. One could almost have pitied him, for 
he was as one who desired even one drop of living 
water to cool his tongue and was tormented in a flame. 

I was praying hard for one boon — that Constance 
should not see me die. It seemed that my prayer was 


208 


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answered, for he led her roughly to the curtained 
door and pushed her through. 

He whistled, and Vargus came in through the other 
door. The movements of both men were detached 
and business-like. I had the odd fancy that this was 
exactly how the paid executioner goes about his work 
in the prisons. 

Once more the cloth was tied over my head, the chair 
was lifted, and I was carried away. The swinging 
motion lasted a long time. I must have been taken a 
considerable distance from the room of my agony 
when the chair was finally set down. I heard the 
plangent beating of waves and felt cool airs. I was 
in the central cavern once more, and near to the mouth 
of it. So that was it! They were going to throw me 
to the whirlpools and the rocks below ! . . . 

I felt strong and slender fingers about my neck — 
Vargus the pianist! — and shuddered at the contact. 
The cloth was removed. It was as I thought: all 
round was the cathedral-like cave, but now dozens 
of lights were turned on, including a great blue arc- 
lamp suspended from the roof, and all the shadows 
and mystery were gone. 

Not far away, resting upon rubber-covered wheels, 
which were dropped below the floats by an adaptation 
of the Raynor-Wallis patent, was the great Pirate 
Ship, towering up under the domed roof, spreading 
her great planes from side to side, lovely in her lines. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


209 


an awful instrument of power. Even at that supreme 
moment I longed to examine her, to go aboard and 
make acquaintance with the wonders she held. 

The ruling passion of a man’s life dies hard! 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE HOUNDS FROM TIBET AND MR. VARGUS J WITH 
A DISCOVERY ON BOARD THE PIRATE 



HEY turned my chair so that I faced the mouth 


A of the cave, which was some thirty yards away. 
The moon had set. The short summer night was over, 
and the first gray hint of the dawn, that I should never 
see, was near. 

Helzephron sat down on a stool a few yards away 
from me. His back was to the cavern mouth. He 
spoke a word to Vargus, who padded away behind me. 

“Why are we waiting?” I said. 

“Because you had the misfortune to hear my friend 
Vargus pouring his soul out at the piano, Sir John.” 

“I am still rather in the dark.” 

“I have no objection to satisfying a curiosity which 
is legitimate under the circumstances. I was going 
to put a pistol to your ear and throw you into the 
cove. But Mr. Vargus has fantastic tastes, and you 
have put his back up. He asked me a favor, and as 
I owe him a good deal, I could not refuse it. But I 
see he is returning. You shall have a concrete ex- 
planation.” 


210 


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211 


From somewhere behind me I heard the padding of 
footsteps, accompanied by a curious scuffling noise 
and the sound of heavy breathing. Then Helzephron 
gave a short bark of laughter, and Vargus came round 
the chair. 

Then I knew. 

On leather leashes Vargus held two monstrous dogs. 
Each one was as big as a newly born calf. They were 
like Newfoundlands, and yet unlike, for there was a 
great bull-dog jowl to each. . . . 

“My Tibetan mastiffs/’ said Helzephron. “Death 
by dogs for a dog!” 

Vargus brought the brutes within two yards of me. 
Their teeth were bared, their hackles rose, there was 
the dull red light in their eyes, too, but not a sound 
came from either. 

Both men watched me intently, but they got none 
of the satisfaction that they hoped. It was simply 
that the bitterness of death was over. That was all. 
Fear was something that I was no longer capable of 
feeling. To be worried to death by mastiffs was just 
like any other death, then. I understood how it was 
that martyrs for religion, or any cause in which they 
believed, died so quietly. 

Helzephron cursed deeply. “Get it over,” he said. 
“Take the dogs to the far end of the cave. When I 
blow this whistle let them go. You’ll hear them run- 


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£12 

ning up behind you, Sir John,” he said, with an insane 
chuckle. 

Vargus disappeared. 

I stared out at the cave mouth. Each moment it 
grew lighter. I thought that I should have liked to 
have seen one more summer dawn. But Helzephron 
was lifting his whistle; and then the mouth of the 
cave seemed to recede and shrink to the size of a mere 
window. 

A mere window. With idle curiosity I saw how a 
fat spider was slowly descending his swinging thread, 
and I was a child again, seated at the nursery win- 
dow. . . . 

The whistle blew a shrill, echoing blast. 

At once my mind awoke to full consciousness, and 
I braced myself to die without a cry. The cave mouth 
became itself again, and the spider . . . 

Hanging by one arm and a leg , half-way down a 
stout rope, was a short, thick-set figure. . . . 

As the rapid thud of the racing dogs grew loud the 
figure’s right arm raised itself. 

Bang ! Crash! Bang! Crash! a wild howl of 
pain, thunderous echoes rolling down the cavern, and 
Helzephron on his feet in time to see something bound- 
ing towards him like an india-rubber ball. 

I knew who that was. I had one glimpse of a ter- 
rible grinning face as Danjuro leapt at the hawk-faced 
man ; heard a strangled scream and a long, crunching 


THE AIR PIRATE 


213 


crack, and saw two whirling figures crash to the floor. 

I can’t express the suddenness of it all. Before my 
brain could register the impression, another person 
was sprinting by me, yelling like a fiend. Then Dan- 
juro rose from the floor — alone — and my ropes were 
being divided, my stiff limbs rubbed, and a calm, ex- 
ultant voice remarked: “Exit Honorable Helzeph- 
ron.” 

I began to laugh weakly. 

“You were just in time, Danjuro. Have you killed 
him?” 

He was about to reply when there was a diversion. 

Charles Thumb wood appeared. He had Mr. Var- 
gus by the collar, and was kicking him along to the 
accompaniment of flowers of language that I shall 
not attempt to reproduce. 

“Caught ’im at the telephone,” gasped Charles. 
“Gr-r-r, you little swine” — a furious kick — “Gr-r-r, 
you slime-lapping leper you! ’E was telephoning to 
’is friends, Sir John. Thank Gawd we come in time, 
Sir John! Gr-r-r, there’s one as you won’t forget in 
an ’urry!” and lifting Mr. Vargus several inches from 
the floor with a final kick, Little Thumbwood flung 
him away, began to feel me all over with trembling 
hands, and burst into a flood of tears. 

But I had caught his words. The telephone! We 
should have all the band upon us in two minutes, des- 
perate and fighting for their lives. 


214 


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“Quick!” I shouted, “follow me. We must get 
Miss Shepherd safe. There isn’t a moment to lose.” 

I don’t know how I did it, and the first few yards 
were like running on red-hot plowshares; but I got 
going, and raced down the great cave, past the Pirate 
Ship, to the door at the end. 

I noticed a door on the left as I ran. It was the one 
by which I had first entered, the one that marked the 
passage leading to the lift. 

“Block that somehow !” I called to Thumbwood. “It 
may keep them back for a minute or two. Shoot any- 
one who breaks through.” 

He understood and stopped at once. I saw him 
dragging up some cases to make cover and lying down 
behind them, as I turned just outside the door which 
led to the ante-room to Helzephron’s private sanctum. 

... We found Constance upon her knees in a 
richly furnished room. Her maid, Wilson, was weep- 
ing and trembling in a corner. As we burst in she 
shrieked with terror. 

But Constance fainted dead away. 

I took that unfortunate woman, Wilson, and shook 
her into sanity. There was nothing else to be done, 
and I remember that it seemed quite natural and 
obvious at the time. I knew that we hadn’t a moment 
to lose, and I was in a state of abnormal excitement. 

When she had regained some sort of control, which 
was in less than a minute, I ordered her to attend to 


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215 


Constance, and, when she came to herself, to tell her 
that we were all saved and Helzephron was powerless. 
Then I hurried out into the cave. 

Danjuro and Thumbwood were working like de- 
mons. Piles of boxes and other impedimenta had been 
erected in two strategic positions commanding the 
door. Behind each pile were two or three automatic 
rifles and many clips of ammunition. Just as I came 
up Danjuro went to the door and opened it wide. 

I grasped his idea at once. As you may remember 
from my former description, the passage was a mere 
cleft in the rock. Certainly not more than one man 
could walk abreast, and he could be shot down the 
moment he turned the corner. A child who could 
shoot straight would have been able to hold the pas- 
sage, and behind the barrier on the floor of the cave 
would have been safe enough. 

“I trust honorable lady quite safe?” said Danjuro 
in his quiet, silky voice. 

“Yes; the maid’s attending to her. Thank God that 
unutterable scoundrel has not harmed her.” 

Then I remembered something. Danjuro’s face was 
perfectly placid and ordinary. The grinning devil- 
mask had vanished as if it had never been. To look 
at him no one would have guessed that he was any- 
thing but a peaceable little Eastern student, such as 
you may see by the dozen any day round about the 
Law Courts in town. He rolled a cigarette in his 


THE AIR PIRATE 


216 

conjuring way as I spoke, and yet a few moments 
ago those slender hands had just broken the neck of 
the Master Criminal of Europe! 

'Took here, old chap,” I said. “I haven’t had a 
moment to thank you. You and Charles arrived in 
the very nick of time. A few seconds more and I 
should have been done for; and as for Miss Shep- 
herd . . ” 

I couldn’t go on. I just held out my hand. 

He didn’t take it — cold-blooded little beggar! He 
just bowed politely and murmured something that 
sounded like “Glad to be of any help!” Then he 
brightened up. “I think, Sir John,” he said, “that 
we can reckon ourselves as quite safe from any in- 
trusion now!” and he waved his hand towards the 
open door. 

“Let ’em all come!” remarked Thumbwood. 

Then, quite suddenly, the floor of the cave seemed 
to heave up and down. The great arc lights which 
made it as bright as day began to wheel round like 
fireworks, and I fainted for the second time. 

When I recovered it was to find myself in the late 
Helzephron’s own room. Something cold was on my 
forehead and something chilly and scented trickled 
down my face. I opened my eyes, and Constance was 
kneeling by my side. 

“My love, my dear love!” she whispered. “I never 


THE AIR PIRATE 217 

thought that I should see you alive again. Oh, thank 
God, thank God!” 

Then her arms were round me, and for a long time 
we spoke no word. I think I know what the man who 
was called back from death in Palestine long ago 
must have felt. . . . 

She gave me food and wine, and at last, though I 
felt physically weak and shaken, my mind worked 
again, and I stood up. We were alone in the room, 
and no sound came from outside, so I concluded that 
all was safe for the present. 

“A little Japanese carried you in here,” Connie 
said, “as easily as if you were a child. I had just 
come to myself, and I thought, oh, John, I thought 
that you had been killed, and that he was one of those 
awful people. But he shouted out at once that what 
Wilson said was true and we were saved. I believed 
him, in spite of the shock his appearance gave me at 
first, and when he had put you down gently in this 
chair he hurried away. John, who is he, and how are 
we saved?” 

“We owe everything to him,” I answered gravely. 
“He killed Helzephron with his own hands” — I did not 
tell her about the dogs just then — “and in a few hours 
we shall be back in the world. We can never, as long 
as we live, pay our debt to Danjuro.” 

In as short a time as I could, I explained every- 
thing to her, from the first moment when I had heard 


218 


THE AIR PIRATE 


of her capture until now. I walked about the room 
as I did so, and new life flowed into my cramped 
limbs. When I had smoked a cigarette, I felt almost 
normal again. 

“Now, dear,” I said, when my story was over, “we 
aren’t exactly out of the wood yet, though there’s 
nothing whatever to be alarmed at. Go into your 
own room and collect your things together; whatever 
you want to take away with you. Stay here with 
Wilson till I come again. I may be some time. There 
are a good many things to straighten out.” 

One more embrace and I left her, sobbing with great 
happiness, and, passing through the ante-room, hurried 
out into the great cave. 

My first glance was towards the door of the rock 
passage leading to the lift. It was still open. Sitting 
on the barrier twelve yards or so away was Thumb- 
wood. A rifle lay across his knees and he was placidly 
smoking his pipe. 

“All right?” I shouted. 

“All O.K., Sir John,” he answered, standing up. 
“Not a sign of anyone. As a matter of fact, Mr. 
Danjuro and me have ascertained that this ’ere dog- 
fancier ’adn’t time to get through to his friends up- 
stairs. I got ’old of ’im just as he was topping the 
fence.” 

I followed his glance, and I saw Mr. Vargus, 
trussed like a fowl, on the floor a yard or two away. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


219 


I had quite forgotten that ingenious and artistic 
person, and I started. He was a sorry sight enough, 
dirty, blood-stained and horrible, as his pale, wicked 
face stared up at me. He said nothing, and I shud- 
dered as I looked at him — shuddered as I had never 
done at Helzephron. 

“ Where’s Mr. Danjuro?” I asked. 

“Up at the mouth of the cave, Sir John. I was 
to send you to him directly you came. ,, 

I nodded, turned, and began to walk up the great 
cave. The Pirate Airship lay there, gleaming and 
wonderful. There was a light steel ladder at her 
side as I passed, leading up into the fuselage, and 
it was only by a strong effort of will that I could keep 
myself from mounting it and exploring the mechani- 
cal marvels that I knew she contained. However, I 
resisted the temptation and hurried on. The lights 
depending from the roof grew dimmer each moment as 
I drew near the curving entrance. “It must be full 
day outside,” I thought, as the fresh sea-air came to 
meet me, and then, as I turned round the bend, I saw 
the squat, black figure of the Japanese silhouetted 
against the rosy fires of sunrise. 

Danjuro was standing motionless. He was looking 
down at some humped objects upon the ground. The 
rope, like a wisp of spider’s web, swung gently to 
and fro. There was not a sound save the soft mur- 
mur of the sea far down below. 


no 


THE AIR PIRATE 


‘Tm all right now,” I said, and he turned to me 
without a start, though he could not have heard me 
coming. 

His face was calm, but wrinkled up in every direc- 
tion. He looked like a man of immense age, and 
his narrow eyes were full of brooding, somber light. 
Almost at his feet lay the body of Helzephron. It had 
been decently disposed with the hands upon the breast, 
and the morning light played over the hawk-lik'e, 
bronzed face and open eyes in which there was now 
no cruelty. 

The dead man was august as he lay there. There 
was a certain nobility about the features. He did not 
look like a scoundrel, and all resentment and hate 
passed away from me for ever as I looked at him. 

The two huge dogs, one with a bullet through its 
brain, the other shot in the chest and through the 
heart as it was in the act of leaping, were hideous 
objects. . . . 

When I looked up again the wrinkles had gone from 
Danjuro’s face, the somber expression from his eyes. 
It was a magical change, but I was long past wonder 
at anything in connection with him. 

“We will have those dogs skinned,” he remarked 
in his ordinary voice. “They will make a fine rug 
for your house, Sir John.” 

“No doubt; but we’ve got to get out of this first. 
Remember that there are a dozen desperate scoundrels 


THE AIR PIRATE 


221 

not far away. And I don’t see either Miss Shepherd 
or myself returning to the world up that rope! By 
the way, I haven’t heard how you managed to get 
here in time.” 

He told me the story shortly enough. There was not 
an unnecessary detail and no comment whatever. 
Thumbwood supplied the lacking picturesqueness some 
days later. But even as Danjuro told it, I realized the 
marvelous sagacity and contempt of danger that had 
saved us. 

It seemed that when he had arrived at Zerran, the 
idea of a cave, either natural or enlarged by pre- 
tended mining operations, was already in his mind. 
As soon as I had left the inn on my expedition, Dan- 
juro and Thumbwood had taken one of Trewhella’s 
boats and set out eastwards along the coast. The 
Japanese had already taken his bearings, and knew 
that Tregeraint House would be a little to the left of 
the jagged peak of Carne Zerran. They cruised along 
into the moonlight until they picked up their mark, 
and not two hundred yards further on struck the en- 
trance to the S-shaped cove. Then Danjuro had no 
longer any doubts. No boat could live in that caul- 
dron of the waves, but it seemed a man could, for our 
rescuers proved it! 

He stripped and went in — I learnt afterwards that 
he was as much at home in the water as a seal, and, 
of course, like so many of his countrymen, he was 


222 


THE AIR PIRATE 


simply a mass of steel muscles. In twenty minutes 
the secret was a secret no longer. 

Danjuro’s next move was to row back to Zerran 
Cove at top speed, and hasten up the cliff path to 
the inn. Here he disinterred the coastguard from the 
pigsty and roused him to immediate action. 

Ropes and crowbars were procured, the fenced-off 
“dangerous” area on the cliff-top invaded, and Dan- 
juro, with Charles, descended in the nick of time. But 
there was more than this. The coastguard had his 
orders. Directly the two men disappeared over the 
brink he was instructed to make all haste to the watch- 
house, some two miles away in the direction of St. 
Ives. From there the Chief Boatswain was to tele- 
phone all along the coast to the various stations, and 
also to the police at St. Ives, Camborne and Penzance. 

“In three or four hours, perhaps sooner,” Danjuro 
concluded, “an armed force should be concentrating 
on the moors upon the house above. The pirates will 
be desperate, and will put up a fight — at least, I think 
so, but the end is certain.” 

“And meantime, all we can do is to wait here until 
something happens?” 

“That is as you please, Sir John,” he answered, 
looking at me curiously. 

For a minute I did not see what he meant, but then 
a great idea dawned upon me. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


223 


“The Pirate Ship !” I burst out. 

“I have always heard that Sir John Custance is a 
skilled pilot,” he said with a bow. 

I saw it all clearly. There was a gorgeous, dramatic 
end to it all well within my grasp ! It would be some- 
thing to make the whole world gasp! The Pirate 
Ship was, I knew, already loaded with the proceeds 
of the pirates' robberies. It was not only full of loot, 
but prepared in every way for a long cruise. Helze- 
phron and his ruffians had planned an almost immedi- 
ate escape from the cave to some new refuge of which 
I had heard them speak. Doubtless, if things had 
gone right with them, they would have been off by 
now, with my mangled body tossed in the whirlpools 
below and Constance still a prisoner. Helzephron 
would have mounted to a great height, and trusted to 
his immense superiority in speed over all the airships 
in existence for escape. I have little doubt that, had 
things fallen out as he planned, he would have been 
able to carry out his scheme. But God disposes. . . . 

There was nothing, so I thought at the moment, 
to prevent me from piloting the airship out of its 
lair. Once in the sky I could make a bee-line for 
Plymouth, and get there in a little more than half an 
hour — if it was indeed true that the mysterious ship 
could do her two hundred and forty M.P.H. To 
swoop down to Plymouth sea-drome with Constance, 
the Pirate Ship and the recovered treasure! That 


THE AIR PIRATE 


would, indeed, be a triumph such as is given to few 
men to experience. I have a fairly vivid imagination, 
and I saw it all in one radiant picture. 

“Let’s go and have a look at the ship at once,” I 
said, and almost ran back into the cavern, where she 
towered up and threw black velvet shadows in the 
fierce blue light that streamed down from the sus- 
pended arcs. Danjuro followed. 

As I swung myself over the side and descended a 
short ladder, I found myself in a roomy main cabin. 
A switch to my hand illuminated it, and even then I 
saw that the ship had been designed by a master hand. 
Below the port-holes, filled with toughened glass and 
provided with shutters of a design that was new to 
me, ran a continuous seat of woven camels’ hair cord, 
easily convertible into sleeping bunks for half a dozen 
people. There was an electric stove of polished 
aluminium for cooking, and an electric radiator for 
warming the cabin, clustering round a central support- 
ing column. I saw also that there was a very com- 
plete telephone installation connecting this main cabin 
with the pilot’s room forward. 

Under the seats was a collection of wooden cases 
and a box of japanned steel, which I judged, and 
rightly, contained the treasure taken from the Albatros 
and the Alantis. A sliding door aft led into a store- 
room, which seemed to contain everything necessary 
for a cruise of several days. I noticed boxes of ex- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


225 


pensive cigars, bottles of whisky and liqueurs, tinned 
oysters, larks, asparagus, such as wealthy yachtsmen 
provide themselves with. The dogs did themselves 
well! 

Leading out of this was a final cabin fitted with 
tools of every sort, a rack of automatic rifles and 
pistols, and several thousand rounds of small-arms am- 
munition. Here also, with a padded door, was a little 
compartment for the wireless operator, and I pictured 
one of the black-hearted scoundrels sitting there and 
picking up the messages from airships of the trade 
routes with a grin upon his face. 

Danjuro came with me and looked about him 
quickly, but with no change of expression. “So far, 
so good, ,, I said to him; “but all this is unimportant, 
really, though it is very complete. What really mat- 
ters is the pilot's cabin, the engines, controlling gear, 
petrol supply and so on. Let's go forward. Do you 
understand anything about airships?" 

“A very little, Sir John," he replied, and — so petty 
are we all at times — I felt a perceptible thrill of 
pleasure at hearing there was at least something of 
which this paragon was ignorant. 

“Never had occasion to study them?" I asked, as 
we passed again through the main cabin. 

“I have watched the pilot in Honorable Van Adams' 
yacht the May Flower , but that is all. . . ." 


THE AIR PIRATE 


£26 

I hardly heard him, for I was in the pilot’s room at 
last. 

I saw at a glance that here were a number of things 
absolutely new to me, and so to all the aviators of 
the world. I am not going to be technical. This nar- 
rative is written for the general reader, and my expert 
conclusions have been published elsewhere. I can but 
indicate some of the wonders of mechanical skill with 
which I was confronted. 

For instance, the designer of the ship was the first 
man to solve the problem of easy control. Up to the 
present all pilots had controlled their ships — the move- 
ments of planes and rudders, etc. — with a certain 
amount of manual labor. It is true that recent in- 
ventions had minimized this; ball-bearings, the rack 
and pinion, had made the main control levers and 
wheels much easier to move than they were in the 
old days of the Great War — when flying first began 
to come into its own. But there was still a great deal 
of physical strain, which greatly lessened efficiency 
upon a long cruise. Moreover, the instant decision 
necessary to be taken by an aviator — when a fraction 
of a second may spell safety or ruin — had been always 
hampered by the comparative mechanical slowness of 
control. 

In the Pirate Ship this disability did not exist. 
Just as the largest ocean-going liner — sea-ship, not 
airship, I mean — can be. steered by a wheel not more 


THE AIR PIRATE 


227 


than two feet in diameter by the invention of the steam 
steering gear, so the Pirate Ship was controlled by a 
series of little wheels and levers, covered with leather, 
that looked like toys. 

Electricity had been brought into play, and a touch 
of the pilot’s hand was magnified into power that in 
an instant would deflect a mighty lifting plane or vast 
rudder. 

The fuel capacity of the ship was immense. She 
carried as much petrol, in the huge and ingeniously 
contrived tanks below the fuselage, as one of the great 
air-liners, though she was not a fifth of the size. I 
saw at once that she could keep the air for days. 

Examining the cockpit, in which two quick-firing 
guns were placed, I found them both of the very latest 
pattern, and mounted with a swivel device that was far 
in advance of anything attempted hitherto. Only the 
great battle-planes of the world’s air navies could 
mount guns of such power, and she could circle round 
them with ease while in full flight. 

But it was when I mounted to the little deck above, 
and began to examine the two huge six-cylinder en- 
gines, that my admiration and interest grew beyond all 
bounds. The chief triumph of all, the silencing 
mechanism that reduced the ordinary roar of air en- 
gines to no more than the hum of a dynamo, did not 
at once become clear. It would have been necessary 
to take the machines to pieces to have discovered 


228 


THE AIR PIRATE 


everything; but an examination of the exhausts put me 
on the track, and I marveled at the creation of a 
master-mind. 

I was looking at the twin propellers, which had a 
curve that was new to me, and even material that I 
could not immediately define, when Danjuro hailed me 
from the pilot’s room. 

I tumbled down to find the little man bending over 
the various controls ranged in front of the pilot’s seat. 

“It seems to me, Sir John,” he said, “pray correct 
me if I am wrong, that there is something wanting 
here. I know little about airships, but something of 
electricity, and can quite understand this system. But 
it seems to me that a key-part of the mechanism has 
been removed.” 

He pulled over a lever a few inches long. Its move- 
ment should have been registered upon a dial above, 
but the needle never moved. 

“Do that again!” I cried, and, mounting a step, put 
my head into the little dome of glass in the cabin 
roof which commanded the whole length of the ship. 
One of the tilting planes by the rudder should have 
moved when the lever was pulled over. 

It remained motionless. 

“One of the honorable gentlemen upstairs has got 
a small but very essential piece of linking apparatus in 
his pocket,” said Danjuro. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


229 

It was only too true. A moment’s reflection satis- 
fied me of that, and I stared blankly at my companion. 

My gorgeous, if somewhat vainglorious, plan was 
knocked on the head. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE MOMENT OF TRIUMPH 

1 DESCENDED from the airship in silence. Dan- 
juro followed me. Thumbwood was still on 
guard. The bundle that was Mr. Vargus lay upon 
the ground, and a face like a white wedge of venom 
stared up at us. There was no sign of the enemy, 
but I felt that we should not be left in peace much 
longer, and my disappointment at the discovery on 
board the pirate was keen. 

“There is still a chance,” Danjuro whispered in my 
ear. “And with your permission, Sir John, I am go- 
ing to try it.” 

I nodded, and he stepped up to Vargus and pulled 
him up into a sitting posture, propping him against 
the barrier. 

“There is a part of the control mechanism of the 
airship missing,” Danjuro said, with silky politeness. 

Vargus grinned suddenly, a momentary rictus that 
came and went, utterly horrible. 

“And we want that piece of the machine,” the 
Japanese went on. 


230 


THE AIR PIRATE 


231 

Vargtia spoke, in his peculiar oily voice. ‘‘Then 
you may go on wanting, you putty-faced little spawn 
of a monkey.” 

I cannot hope to describe the depth of poisonous 
hate the man put into the words. His accent was 
cultured and refined; the great dome of the blood- 
stained forehead spoke loudly of intellect, yet the 
voice somehow reeked of the pit. I know that it 
struck me cold, and I saw the rifle in Thumbwood’s 
hands was shaking. Although this was the man who 
had devised an abominable death for me, I can honestly 
say that I felt no personal resentment. I can’t ac- 
count for it, but it was so. 

I should have welcomed that, rather than the inward 
loathing, like a shudder of the soul, at something in- 
human and unclean. 

What Danjuro felt I don’t know, but he didn’t 
turn a hair. 

“I think you will assist us,” he said. 

For answer the thing below spat in his face. 

I expected to see Danjuro leap upon him and 
strangle him where he sat. I shouldn’t have raised 
a finger to stop it. But it was not so. The little man 
stepped aside and carefully wiped his face with a silk 
handkerchief that seemed to come from nowhere. 
Then he went behind Mr. Vargus and began to feel 
his head all over, with quick, delicate movements of 
his fingers. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


253 

“How can you touch him?” I cried, hardly know- 
ing what I said, for the thing was ugly and uncanny 
beyond belief. Danjuro was like some sinister phren- 
ologist in a nightmare, feeling the bumps of a devil. 

“I know now what I wanted to know about him,” 
Danjuro purred after a moment. “I never doubted 
the intelligence, Sir John. It is very marked. And 
there is great energy and courage of a sort. But our 
friend who spits has one little failing. He is afraid 
of physical pain.” 

“You're not going to . . .?” 

Danjuro looked me full in the eyes, and in his I 
saw a stony resolution that I was in no state to combat. 

“I will go and see Miss Shepherd,” I said, and 
turning on my heel, walked quickly to the inner end 
of the cavern. As I went I heard Danjuro ask 
Thumbwood for a box of matches. . . . 

I am quite aware that there are lots of soft-hearted 
people who will say I ought never to have allowed 
Danjuro to do what he did. Well, they must have 
their own opinion, that’s all. I believe it was nothing 
like so bad as the cat-o’-nine-tails which is constantly 
administered in our prisons, and under the circum- 
stances I think it was justifiable. Call me what names 
you like as you read this — you have not seen Mr. 
Vargus and his dogs, nor spent a small eternity in the 
pirates’ cave. 

. . . Constance was wonderfully recovered. I spent 


THE AIR PIRATE 233 

a minute or two with her, and then returned to the 
scene of action. 

Mr. Vargus was speaking in a quick, panting voice, 
and these were the words I heard : 

“Gascoigne, Mr. Gascoigne ; he has it. He was our 
second pilot. It was always in his charge. ,, 

Danjuro gave his little weary smile. Then he put 
his hand gently upon my arm and drew me away to 
the other side of the cave. , 

“We will now summon honorable Gascoigne/* he 
said. “He is the young gentlemen we saw with late 
honorable Helzephron at the ‘Mille Colonnes/ The 
little necessary piece of the mechanism in his posses- 
sion is, I have just learnt, generally referred to as The 
link.* ” 

“But how . . . ?” I was beginning, when he 
pointed to a telephone instrument upon a screen of 
tongue-and-groove boarding. “This communicates 
with the house,” he whispered. “Mr. Vargus nearly 
got through recently, you will remember, just before 
the good Thumbwood caught him.” 

He raised the instrument to his mouth and ear. 

In a second or two a bell rang and Danjuro began 
to speak. I nearly jumped out of my boots. The 
words were simple enough, but the voice with its oily 
refinement was the voice of Mr. Vargus! 

“Is that you, Gascoigne? Yes, Vargus speaking. 
The Chief says you are to come down at once and 


THE AIR PIRATE 


384 

bring the control link with you. What? No, the 
others are to wait till they’re sent for. What? Oh, 
yes, quite dead. I wish you could have seen it!” 

It was a triumph of mimicry that I shall never 
forget, the more so as it was the only occasion on 
which I heard this marvelous man attempt anything 
of the sort. Heaven knows what other talents he must 
have possessed! 

“The young gentleman was asking about you, Sir 
John. He seemed quite curious about your end!” 

I smiled grimly. “What are you going to do?” I 
asked. 

In answer he hurried back to the open door and 
crouched down in the shadow by its side. I motioned 
to Thumbwood to lie down behind the barrier which 
was exactly facing the passage, and drawing my auto- 
matic pistol, which I had regained from Helzephron’s 
room, I retired to the opposite side of the door and 
outside the line of direct vision. 

There was silence for a minute or so, and then, far 
away in the rock, I heard a hollow rumble and the 
clank of a gate. The lift had descended and Gas- 
coigne was on his way. A few seconds afterwards I 
heard a merry whistle, fresh and sweet, as if the per- 
former had not a care in the world. He was whistling 
the lilting tune of a popular song which all the street 
boys were singing at that time : 


THE AIR PIRATE 


235 


“Merry Maudie met her fate at Margate !” 

Callous young dog! In a moment he would not be 
so cheerful. . . . 

I had left it to that concentrated muscle, Danjuro, 
though I stood ready to help if necessary. But I 
knew that he was a supreme exponent of jiu-jitsu — 
teste the hideous death Helzephron died — and I had 
little fear. Indeed, I found myself looking on with a 
detached and interested curiosity as one might at a 
prize-fight. I wondered if Danjuro would kill him or 
not. And if you had supped so full of horrors as 
I had in that awful cave, you’d have felt like that, too! 

. . . For a second I saw Gascoigne in the full light 
from the roof and framed by the archway, like a 
picture. It was the same young fellow, with the dis- 
sipated face, that I had seen at the restaurant, though 
he had not been among the singing pirates at the inn. 
He was extremely handsome still, with the face of a 
lost angel. As a boy at school he must have been 
beautiful. 

Then the squat shadow that crouched by the lintel 
of the door, like a monstrous toad, expanded swiftly. 
Danjuro caught Gascoigne by the right hand with the 
speed of lightning, and pulled the arm out straight 
with a jerk. Then, as the young man was falling 
forward, the left arm of the Japanese shot out under 


236 


THE AIR PIRATE 


his captive’s rigid right and the hand seized the lapel 
of Gascoigne’s coat. He was powerless. If he made 
the slightest movement Danjuro would have broken 
his arm like a pipe-stem. He could not swing round 
and hit with his left, and I saw his mouth open with 
foolish amazement like the mouth of a fish, as his 
legs were kicked from under him, and he fell back 
with his assailant on the top of him. 

I tied his ankles together with neatness and dis- 
patch, while I listened to a sickening flood of blas- 
phemous profanity that flowed from the clear-cut lips 
of this ci-devant gentleman in a ceaseless stream. 
More and more I realized what a crew of utter devils 
Helzephron had got round him. 

At last he was bound, and Danjuro took from him 
a leather box, which he wore suspended round his 
shoulders by a strap. He handed it to me, and, open- 
ing it, I found it was the control link that we sought. 

“You can fit that in all right, Sir John?” 

“Oh, yes, I don’t think it presents any difficulty.” 

“Very well, then, in a few minutes we will start; 
that is, if you think you can take the ship out of this 
place ?” 

I had already considered that and decided that I 
could. It was a ticklish job enough, and would re- 
quire the most delicate care, especially with an untried 
ship. But in the past I had landed on the deck of a 


THE AIR PIRATE 237 

moving battleship, and there were few stunts that were 
not familiar to me. I felt I could do it. 

“I don’t think I shall let you down,” I said, and 
hurried to the ship. 

Five minutes showed me that I had got the hang 
of the apparatus and that electrical connection was 
restored, and I spent a further ten in thoroughly 
examining and getting accustomed to the controls. 
Moreover, I made one new and startling discovery. 

There was no need, in this marvelous ship, for me- 
chanics to swing the propeller at the start. Again 
electricity from the ship’s dynamo was employed, and 
the starting device was a miracle of ingenuity, worked 
from the pilot’s cabin. 

Mr. Vargus, though I offered to loosen his bonds 
at the feet, absolutely refused to walk, and Danjuro 
carried him up the ladder and threw him upon the 
floor of the cabin like a sack of corn. Gascoigne, now 
very white and silent, was more amenable. It seems 
that Vargus had acquainted him with everything that 
had passed as they lay together on the ground. 

‘Til go all right, sir,” he said to me, as I helped 
him to his feet. 

As I had the muzzle of my pistol in the small of his 
back, he couldn’t well do anything else, but he lost 
nothing by being civil. 

“I can’t believe that the Chief’s dead and every- 
thing’s finished,” he said, with a curious sort of sob. 


238 


THE AIR PIRATE 


I realized that all sense of right and wrong had left 
this youth early. He was the true stuff of which 
criminals are made, incapable of putting himself in 
the place of his victims, and while bitterly conscious 
of defeat and punishment to come, incapable of re- 
morse. 

Without a trace of pose this man behaved just as 
if he were an officer captured by the enemy in war- 
time, and I dare swear he felt just like that. There is 
only one thing to do with these abnormals that get 
themselves born now and then — destroy them. 

Morally I felt sure that Gascoigne was not a hun- 
dredth part so responsible as Vargus. But one was 
born a criminal, and, from that point of view, insane. 
The other had had the capabilities of sainthood, but 
had opened his soul to the Dweller on the Threshold 
and was doubly lost. 

We went slowly towards the ship. “Good old 
bird ! ,? he said, as any public schoolboy might have 
said it. “I expect this’ll be the last cruise I ever take 
in her.” 

“Or in any ship at all,” I answered. “I suppose 
you’ve no illusions as to what’s in store for you ?” 

“No, I suppose it’s a hanging job,” he replied, and 
I assented, though, as you will learn, both his antici- 
pations were to prove wrong. 

Danjuro and I shifted Vargus out of the main 
cabin intc5 the small one where the tools and spare 


THE AIR PIRATE 


239 


parts were stored. We didn’t want Constance to 
see him, and he was so well secured that he couldn’t 
. possibly do any harm. 

Gascoigne we left for the present on one of the seats, 
and I hurried to fetch the two women, passing Thumb- 
wood, still at his post. 

“Everything is arranged,” I called out, as I ran 
through Helzephron’s room. “We are going to fly 
to Plymouth at once in the Pirate Ship.” 

The maid Wilson shrieked. 

“Oh, Sir John, that awful ship! I couldn’t go in 
’er again, not for my life. Let’s go in a taxi, Miss, 
please ’ave a taxi ; I couldn’t face the ship.” 

“You’ll lose your life quickly enough if you stay,” 
I said to the yelping fool, though, Heaven knows, the 
poor soul had gone through enough to turn her mind 
entirely. Her mouth grew like a round O, and I was 
preparing for another shriek when I suddenly thought 
of something. 

“Miss Connie will be quite safe with me,” I said 
quickly, “and I shall put you in charge of Charles 
Thumb wood. You remember him? He’ll look after 
you all right, Wilson.” 

It acted like a charm. I had remembered Charles’s 
attention to the pretty maid in the train. 

“Ow!” said Wilson. “Is Mr. Thumbwood here, 
then, Sir John?” 

“Very much so. You will be his especial charge, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


240 

and the journey won’t take more than three-quarters 
of an hour.” 

The girl picked up the dressing-bag, which she had 
dropped upon the floor. “Then that will be all right,” 
she said with a flush, and I wondered if she thought 
Charles was going to pilot the ship himself. How 
true it is that Faith can move mountains! No doubt 
Constance felt just the same about me as Mary Wilson 
did about Charles. 

... We had come out into the cave, and had walked 
a few yards towards the looming bulk of the ship, when 
the telephone bell on the cave-side ahead of us rang 
furiously. It kept on like an alarm-clock, and telling 
the girls to remain still for a moment, I ran up and 
unhooked the receiver. 

A voice was bawling at the other end, so loud that 
the words rang and buzzed one in to the other, and I 
could only distinguish one or two. I heard enough 
to know what had happened, though. 

“Chief . . . coastguard police . . . rifles ... all 
round the house on the moor were coming down . . . 
two of us stay . . . hold till last moment. ...” 

So that was it ! Billy Pengelly, the coastguard, had 
made good. The wires had been at work while we had 
been about our mole-like warfare underground. The 
avengers were among the gorse and heather, and the 
remainder of the pirates were doomed. . . . 

“Come on,” I shouted to Connie, realizing that there 


THE AIR PIRATE 


was literally not a moment to lose, and, alarmed by 
the excitement in my voice, they started to run. 

When they had come up to me, and I started to run 
with them towards the ship, there was a sudden thun- 
derous report. Looking to the right, I saw 'that 
Thumbwood had taken cover, and was lying on his 
stomach behind the barrier. The open door was but 
a dim oblong of yellow light at that distance, and I 
could not see a yard down the passage in the rocks. 

Thumbwood fired again, and the echoing roar had 
not died away when something went by my ear with 
a vicious zipp } and I heard the splash of a bullet upon 
the granite. 

The pirates were coming down in force, and, finding 
themselves between Scylla and Charybdis, had turned 
at bay. 

I knew Thumbwood would keep them where they 
were for a minute or two, and I raced to the ship with 
Connie at my side. Wilson had fainted, and we had 
to drag her between us. 

Half-way up the light, steep accommodation ladder 
Danjuro was waiting, perfectly calm and unconcerned. 
We handed up the unconscious maid, and he disap- 
peared with her in a second. Then Connie was helped 
up the ladder, while the whole cavern began to thunder 
with a fusillade of rapid firing. 

“The police and coastguards are surrounding the 
house/’ I shouted, “and the rest of the crew have come 


242 


THE AIR PIRATE 


down, and are trying to fight their way into the cave.” 

“It is what I thought, Sir John. Those gentlemen 
must be considerably surprised at their reception! 
We can shoot them all down before they get out of the 
passage. Perhaps, now that rescue is at hand, we had 
better wait and do so?” 

His eyes were glistening; I saw the light of slaughter 
in them. For an instant I hesitated. What he said 
was sane enough. The risk was comparatively small ; 
it would only be postponing the triumphal flight. 

Then I took a decision — it rested with me, and I 
was alone responsible. “We mustn’t shoot them all 
down,” I shouted through the din, for bullets were 
streaming into the cave behind as though they were 
pumped from a hose. “Some of them must be brought 
to justice. We had better be off and leave the coast- 
guards and police to deal with them.” 

Thus I spoke. I said what I honestly thought was 
best at the moment, though perhaps my mind was a 
little influenced by the natural and terrible anxiety to 
get my girl away from further horrors. 

At any rate, I decided, and all my life long I shall 
never cease to regret it. 

“Very good,” said Danjuro. “Up into the pilot’s 
cabin, quick, Sir John. You are indispensable there. 
Prepare for an instant start. I will run and fetch 
Thumbwood. We shall have to fire thirty or forty 
rounds quickly into the passage to keep them back. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


243 


Of course, they are firing automatic pistols round the 
bend now, and not exposing themselves any more. 
After we have fired we shall run for the ship. You will 
hear me shout and then start like lightning!” 

He slipped past me, and, crouching almost to the 
ground, ran back towards Thumbwood like some great 
cat. 

I flung myself aboard. Constance was attending to 
Wilson in the main cabin. Gascoigne was lying bound 
where he had been thrown, but his eyes were blazing 
with excitement. 

I put a stop to that at once. ‘The remainder of 
your friends are being shot down,” I said curtly. 
“Lucky for you to be here.” 

All the animation died out of his face. And, as I 
didn’t want to leave him alone with Connie — it seemed 
a desecration that he should be in the same place with 
her even for a moment — I whipped out my knife, cut 
the bonds at his feet, and pushed him into the pilot’s 
cabin, making him lie upon the floor at my side as I 
got into the swivel chair. I could shoot him dead in 
an instant if he moved. 

Then I sat rigid, with my hand upon the switch 
which started the engines. 

In reality, I know now that the time of waiting was 
very short, but it seemed an eternity to me. For the 
first time my nerves felt upon the point of giving way. 
My hand trembled. I began to think of the narrow 


THE AIR PIRATE 


244 

S-shaped passage be ween high walls of rock to the 
sea, and realized the appalling nature of the task before 
me. A mere touch of the planes upon those iron 
barriers, and all the long struggle would prove un- 
availing, the triumph turn to a defeat in which my 
girl and I, the superman Danjuro, and faithful Thumb- 
wood would lose our hard-won lives. 

One touch and the ship would crumple up like paper 
and fall like a stone into the cruel cauldron of jagged 
rock and furious waves far below. 

There came a voice from the floor. Had the pris- 
oner divined something of my thoughts? 

“. . . Look here, Sir John, you’re up against a 
nasty job. It’s the very devil getting out of here if 
you don’t know the way and haven’t practised it.” 

Something in the young fellow’s voice told me that 
this was not mockery. He was, moreover, the second 
pilot of the Pirate Ship, trained by Helzephron him- 
self. 

‘‘I did not ask you to speak,” I answered. 

“No, but really it’s no end of a stunt. The controls 
are ten times as sensitive as in an ordinary machine. 
If you were the best pilot living, you’d find it hard to 
manage in a ship that’s quite new to you, and has all 
sorts of habits and tricks that no other has.” 

He spoke truly enough, and I knew it, but it was 
none the less unpleasant to hear. 


THE AIR PIRATE 245 

“I suppose you’re afraid for your damned skin,” I 
sneered. 

‘‘Oh, come, draw it mild,” he replied. “I only spoke 
to try and help you. I know when I’m beaten, and I 
don’t bear any malice.” 

“If I do take you safely out, it will only mean the 
gallows.” 

“Oh, no, it won’t!” he said. “I shall turn King’s 
evidence. There are lots of things I know that no one 
else except Vargus knows now. I shall get let off with 
fifteen years. Bet you a fiver, if you like. It’s to my 
interest to help you out.” 

I can generally tell when a man is sincere, and I 
realized that this young scoundrel was, despite — and 
perhaps because of — the baseness of his motive. 

“Help me?” 

“Yes, out of the passage. Once you get in clear air 
you’ll fly her easily enough — and you’ll be astonished, 
by Jove! But you’d better let me pilot you. It’s the 
lift and the sharp right bank that are so difficult. . . 

“Get up,” I said. 

He scrambled to his feet. 

“Stand there!” He leaned against the wall at my 
side, his hands tied behind him and his arms tightly 
bound. 

He was about to speak, when suddenly we both 
started. Something had happened. For a moment I 
did not realize what it was. Then I knew. The con- 


246 


THE AIR PIRATE 


tinuous thunder of rifle fire had stopped. Everything 
was dead silent. I’d hardly become conscious of the 
fact when there was a loud shout. 

“Let her go, Sir John! Let her go!” 

Danjuro stumbled into the cabin, panting like a 
whippet. 

I pulled over the switch and then the lever of the 
starting mechanism. 


* 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE GOLDEN DREAM 

T HE strangely-shaped propellers bit the air at 
once, the walls of the cavern, flooded with spec- 
tral light, slid backwards, and as the ship swerved 
round the curve towards the entrance, the day leapt 
at us. 

Wow! but it was touch and go during the next ten 
seconds. If it had not been for Gascoigne I am 
sure that I should never have gone through. The 
great ship shot out of its lair like a dart ; a touch upon 
the little steering-wheel and she was banking in the 
terrible right-hand turn ; the granite walls seemed rush- 
ing to meet and crush her, and only the quick, steady 
words of command from the prisoner, which like an 
automaton I obeyed, got her finally into the 
straight. . . . 

And then — oh, then — I opened out the marvelous 
engines; she seemed to shake herself for an instant 
like a bird poised for a long flight, and, humming like 
a wasp, she shot up and out to sea. . . . 

247 


THE AIR PIRATE 


248 

The needle upon the speed indicator quivered round 
its dial, moving ever upwards. Eighty, a hundred, a 
hundred and fifty — and thirty more — we were doing 
nearly two hundred miles an hour, straight out over 
the Atlantic before I had a thought of our destination, 
or of anything but the supreme glory of that rush up 
the dawn wind. 

The whole morning world was blue and gold, new- 
built and beautiful. Far below, the Mother of Oceans 
lay in an unwrinkled sheet of sapphire, “as it were a 
sea of glass mingled with fire.” A tiny purple cloud 
upon the horizon was the Isles of Scilly, sleeping under 
the sun. 

Connie stole in and stood by my side, her hand upon 
my shoulder, and I knew that her heart also was full 
to overflowing, as memory flared up and down in us 
like the flame of a lamp in a draught. It was a mo- 
ment so exquisite, so full of gratitude to God, that no 
words of mine can do more than hint at it. For we 
had escaped from hell and the snare of devils, and 
knew it in one lightning flash of gratitude and joy. 

As she stared out at the sea and sky, which glowed 
like the pavements of the New Jerusalem, Connie 
quoted some words from Milton — the song of the 
released spirit in his epilogue of “Comus” : 

“To the Ocean now I fly, 

And those happy climes which lie 
Where Day never shuts his eye 
Up in the broad fields of the sky.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


249 


And then, as I glanced at the compass card and made 
a great sweep round, so that we faced the jagged 
coasts of Cornwall once again, she whispered, with a 
proud note in her voice : 

“For still the Lord is Lord of Might 
In deeds, in deeds, he takes delight.” 

Then, with a tiny pressure of my arm, she went back 
to the other cabin. 

I had not noticed Danjuro for the last few minutes. 
He had led Gascoigne behind me as soon as we had 
made the passage. Now he reappeared. 

“Danjuro!” I cried, “this ship is wonderful beyond 
all imagining! There isn’t her equal in the whole 
world. She’ll revolutionize flying. It’s a perfect joy 
to pilot her!” 

Danjuro nodded calmly; he was not given to en- 
thusiasms, this man with a panther in his soul. “I 
have been speaking with the prisoner,” he said. 

“With Vargus?” 

“No, though I have been to look at him, and he is 
quite safe. With Gascoigne, and he has suggested 
something that has not occurred to either of us, Sir 
John.” 

“His help will all tell in his favor when it comes to 
the trial. What is it now ?” 

“Something eminently sensible and pressing! As 
you see, this ship is quite unmistakable. Any pilot 


250 


THE AIR PIRATE 


would recognize her from the descriptions which have 
been circulated. We are now approaching the coast 
again and about to fly to Plymouth. The air must be 
full of armed patrol ships, and, whatever our speed, 
if we escape being shot down en route, we should cer- 
tainly be blown to pieces on approaching the sea- 
drome !” 

I flushed up. I had been an incredible ass never to 
have thought of that before. It was only too true. 
Nobody could possibly know that we had captured the 
Pirate Ship. . . . 

I reduced our speed to half of what it had been. 
“What are we to do?” I said. 

“There is a complete wireless installation on board 
the ship. Can you operate it, Sir John?” 

“No. Even if I could leave the controls, that would 
be impossible. I know nothing about it, unfortu- 
nately.” 

“Nor I, Sir John. It is a gap in my knowledge that 
I propose to remedy shortly. But this Gascoigne is an 
operator, and offers to send any message.” 

“I suppose we can trust him? He certainly saved 
us from disaster coming out of the cavern.” 

I shuddered; I did not want to think of that blood- 
stained hole of horror any more. 

“Yes, I think he can be trusted. He has everything 
to gain, and can do no harm that I can see. I cannot 
operate the keys of the apparatus, but I know the 


THE AIR PIRATE 251 

Morse code, and if I stand by him I can check each 
letter as he sends it out.” 

Then I had an inspiration too. “Good! And now 
I think I can make it quite sure. I can remember the 
private code of the Air Police with hardly a gap. We 
will call up Plymouth, and all the police boats now 
flying, in that private code. Meanwhile, we had better 
run out to sea again while you are taking it down.” 

Again I turned the ship, and as we spiraled up and 
out again, I formed the message in my mind and trans- 
lated it, word for word, into the letters of the code, 
which Danjuro took down in pencil upon a sheet of 
his pocket-book. 

When I had finished, and as the message was neces- 
sarily rather a long one it took some time, Danjuro 
marched Gascoigne away to the rear cabin, where 
Vargus was lying. It was there, you may remember, 
that the wireless apparatus was installed. 

We were now reaching a great height, far above any 
of the regular air-lanes, and I felt quite secure from 
any attack. Land, sea, every reminder of the world 
below, had vanished utterly. With hardly a sound 
from the magic engines we floated in a haze of gold 
chrysophrase. It was like a happy dream, though 
never was dream so beautiful. 

Connie stole in again. “I thought I would leave 
Thumbwood and Wilson alone,” she said. “They 
have been sitting side by side and whispering to each 


252 


THE AIR PIRATE 


other ever since we started. Neither of them seems 
to have the least curiosity as to where we are or where 
we’re going.” 

“How thoughtful of you, dearest! Was that the 
only reason you came in here?” 

The rest of the conversation is not a part of this 
story. It lasted a long time as we droned round great 
five-mile circles of the upper air. And then a tele- 
phone rang at my ear. 

Danjuro was speaking. The message had been re- 
ceived at Plymouth, and an answer had been coming 
through for the last ten minutes. He was writing it 
down, letter by letter, from Gascoigne’s dictation. 
Shortly afterwards he brought it in to me, and as I 
read it off the world closed round me again and fairy- 
land vanished. 

Triumph filled my veins and reddened my blood. 
The message came from Muir Lockhart, who was at 
Plymouth again, and was one shout of wonder and 
congratulation. “The whole world will thank you,” it 
concluded. 

For a little time I was intoxicated by that message. 
I saw myself a hero, vindicated a thousand times in 
the eyes of all men, the Chief of Air Police whose 
name would be historical. I think there are few men 
of my age who would not have had their moment of 
vainglory; we are made so. But as I read the message 
to the man who had brought it, I realized that I had 


THE AIR PIRATE 


253 


done nothing, after all, and that everything was due 
to his marvelous brilliancy and courage. 

Thank Heaven that I realized it without a pang of 
envy, and I told him what I thought of him in no 
unstinted way. 

He heard me to the end with no change of counte- 
nance. When I had done, he said: “You have been 
very kind, Sir John, and I greatly appreciate what you 
have said. If, indeed, you are indebted to me in any 
way for the help I have been able to give, you can 
repay me, if you will.” 

“To the half of my kingdom!” I said, with a laugh, 
though I was in dead earnest all the same. 

“That is a promise, Sir John?” He looked down 
at me with magnetic eyes. 

“A promise, Danjuro.” 

‘ ‘Then, while I live, I ask you to say nothing what- 
ever of my part in this affair. I wish i f kept as secret 
as possible; some little part must leak out; there 
will be investigations, public trials, and so forth. But 
much can be kept secret, and it rests with you and 
Thumbwood. And as I have your promise, my mind 
is at rest.” 

“But this is madness, Danjuro! You are owed the 
thanks of two continents. You . . .” 

He interrupted me. 

“I want nothing of the sort. I have had your 
thanks, and that is sufficient. The work itself is 


254 


THE AIR PIRATE 


enough. My usefulness to Mr. Van Adams, the en- 
deavor of my whole life, would be destroyed if any- 
thing were known.” 

Reluctantly I promised. “But Mr. Van Adams, I 
shall tell him everything!” I said. 

Danjuro bowed his head. A faint flush came into 
his yellow face. “If you think I have done anything 
worth it,” he replied, with a curious and touching 
silence. 

And this was the man with the panther in his soul ! 
For the American millionaire he had supreme love, 
with devotion — worship — and for no one and nothing 
else on earth above or below it. 

A man with a single obsession, a man of one idea. 
Well, most of the great men in life have been that. . . . 

I steered for Plymouth at full speed, coming down 
to three thousand feet. In a flash the jagged coast, 
fringed with a thin line of white, came clear to view. 
We sped from the Atlantic, over the narrow peninsula 
of land which divides it from the Channel, and then 
turned east. The Bay, with St. Michael’s Mount look- 
ing like a tiny white pebble, gave place to the long, 
menacing snout of the Lizard, and, as a few minutes 
later we neared Falmouth, a flight of airships rose 
from the water of that mighty harbor and came up 
to join us like a flock of gulls, the big Klaxon electric 
horns blaring a welcome. Dead Man’s Rock and Gall 
Island, Looe, Mevagissey, Fowey — all slipped away 


THE AIR PIRATE 


255 


astern, and the bluff outlines of Rame Head, from 
which the Devon watchers first signaled the Armada, 
came rushing into view. I had been speeding far 
ahead, turning back, flying all round the escorting pa- 
trol boats, which were doing all they knew, letting 
them see what a wonder had come into our hands, and 
rejoicing more and more in the powers of the ship, 
as I found them one by one. Now I slowed down, and 
signaled by horn to the leading vessel of the flotilla. 

As we turned and entered Plymouth Sound, the 
others spread themselves out in a great wedge, of 
which I was leader, like a skein of wild geese upon 
the wing. A salute of guns boomed out as we flew 
high on the Breakwater, and all the bells of Plymouth 
were ringing as I swooped down into the sea-drome. 

And all this time, for three-quarters of an hour or 
more, our two prisoners had been alone together in 
the aft cabin, where the tools and spare parts were 
stored. Neither I nor Danjuro had given them a 
further thought, and it was the one fatal mistake we 
made upon that morning of triumph. 

Thumbwood had, however, been in to look at them 
once or twice, and had seen nothing disturbing. Cer- 
tainly, when some of my men came to take them to the 
station, they were lying sullen in their bonds, and not 
saying a word to each other of any kind. 

But by that time the mischief was doubtless done.; 


256 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Space begins to press upon me. There are still 
two strange and unforgetable scenes to add to this 
narrative, further tragedies to set down. The last 
scene of all, which I have called “The Epilogue/’ was 
not written for a year after the earlier part of this 
story, which is now published as a whole for the first 
time. Why this is so will become clear as you read 
on, if you care to follow me to the very end. 

But as I would not weary you, I will only indicate 
the happenings during the rest of that day at Plymouth 
in the briefest possible fashion. I am impatient to 
bring the story up to the hour of eleven-thirty of the 
same night. 

Immediately we were at rest on the placid waters 
of the sea-drome, Muir Lockhart, with a strong force 
of Air Police, came aboard. Constance and her maid 
were taken in a motor-boat to one of my patrol ships, 
which started with them for the Hounslow Aerodrome 
within half an hour of our arrival. We both of us 
thought it best that she should proceed to London im- 
mediately, and going by air in a Government ship, she 
would escape all annoyance and publicity. 

All approach to the sea-drome was barred, and 
though the Hoe was crowded with spectators, none of 
them could approach anywhere near to us. When I 
had given Lockhart an outline of what had occurred, 
the two prisoners were taken over the pool with a 
strong guard, and run up in the private lift to the 


THE AIR PIRATE 


257 


A.P. station, where there was a strong cell ready to 
receive them. Then I was free to show my colleague, 
himself an expert airman, the wonders of our capture. 

I was doing this — we were in the pilot’s cabin — 
when one of my men came in and said that a motor- 
launch had come alongside from the private air-yacht 
May Flower , which was moored not a hundred yards 
away. I had noticed, when descending, that a magnifi- 
cent yacht was close by, but I did not identify it as 
Mr. Van Adams’ ship. It appeared that he had been 
sleeping aboard for the last two or three nights, since 
he had flown down from London for the funeral, and 
was now alongside. 

Van Adams, of course, was an exception to all ordi- 
nary rules, and in a minute he was shading hands in 
the private saloon and betraying a most lively curiosity 
as to our adventures. I put Danjuro to satisfy him, 
and when we had discussed a bottle of Helzephron’s 
champagne, I left a couple of trusted men to guard 
the ship, and went ashore. Danjuro returned to the 
May Flower with his patron. 

The rest of the day was a whirl of business and ex- 
citement, though I managed to get three hours much 
needed sleep in the afternoon. 

Wires from the Government, from America, from 
Royalty, poured in, in a never-ceasing stream. There 
were innumerable officials to see, the correspondents 
of the great newspapers to satisfy with some sort of 


258 


THE AIR PIRATE 


story — a hundred things to do and arrange for. The 
whole of England was in a ferment, and the stone 
building of the Air Police on the Hoe was, for a 
few hours, the center of it all. The air was thick 
with patrol ships, warning off aviators of all kinds 
from approaching the Pirate Ship, which lay at rest 
and harmless by the north wall of the pool. 

Just before I retired to rest the news of what was 
called “The Battle of the Moor” began to come 
through. The pirates, seeing their ship gone, had 
rushed up again into the house, and had held it with 
the courage of desperation. Only three of them had 
survived, and were now locked up in the police-station 
at Penzance. 

... It would take many pages to detail the events 
of that crowded day, which did not end for me until 
ten o’clock at night, for I was forced to attend a con- 
gratulatory dinner at the “Royal.” Previous to that 
I had found it necessary to summon Danjuro from the 
May Flower , where he had remained quietly with Mr. 
Van Adams during the day. It was necessary that I 
should be restored to something like my former self, 
and only Danjuro could make me blond again! My 
mustache, alas! he could not restore. 

I had arranged to sleep at the station, where there 
were several bedrooms, and about ten-thirty I passed 
the sentry and entered the grounds. 

Plymouth was now quiet. It was a hot, dark night, 


THE AIR PIRATE 


259 


with neither moon nor stars. During the day the 
weather had changed, and now thunder muttered far 
away at sea and amethyst sheet-lightning flickered 
upon the horizon. 

Now and again a drop of hot rain felL 


CHAPTER XIX 


LAST FLIGHT OF THE PIRATE AIRSHIP 
HE station superintendent met me in the office, 



X which was brilliantly lit and cooled by an elec- 
tric fan. 

“I expect you’re feeling pretty well done, Sir John,” 
he said. 

“I feel pretty tired, Johnson, I own.” 

“There’s a big thunderstorm coming up, not a doubt 
of it. The air’ll be cooler afterwards. All the ar- 
rangements about the prisoners are made, sir.” 

The staff had been in communication with London 
all day upon this matter, but I had not heard the re- 
sult. I inquired from the superintendent now. 

“Our two birds, Sir John, and the three they’ve got 
at Penzance are to travel to London to-night. They’ll 
be brought up at Bow Street for a minute or two, and 
remanded for a week to suit your convenience. The 
Home Office will communicate with you, sir.” 

“Very well. How are they going?” 

“The night mail train leaves Penzance at twelve, 
and gets here at two. The other three will be on board 


260 


THE AIR PIRATE 


261 


and well guarded. Our prisoners will join the train 
at Mill Bay Station. I’ve detailed Prosser and Moore 
to escort them. ,, 

“See that the men are well armed. How are the 
prisoners ?” 

“Very quiet, sir. They seem to realize that it’s all 
up with them. They’ve taken their food all right.” 

“They are both together?” 

“Yes, Sir John. You see, we’ve only the one cell 
that is absolutely safe. But that can’t make any differ- 
ence. A man looks in every half-hour. They can’t 
hear him coming, and he reports that they don’t even 
talk.” 

“They’re not handcuffed?” 

“No, I didn’t think it necessary, sir. They will be, 
and chained together, too, when they leave for the 
train. We searched them thoroughly, and took every- 
thing they had on them away half an hour after they 
were brought in. Would you like to see them, sir?” 

“I don’t think so, Johnson. I’ve been a good deal 
too much in their society during the last day or two. 
I don’t want to look at that Vargus again until he’s in 
the dock, and I’m giving evidence against him.” 

“He’s a wicked-looking customer, if ever I saw one,” 
said the inspector, with a face of disgust. “Well, good- 
night, sir, and I hope you’ll sleep well. I’ve told the 
station attendant to have your bath ready at eight. 
He’ll call you then.” 


THE AIR PIRATE 


The good Johnson went away, and I was left alone. 
My head ached, and I felt disinclined for sleep at once. 
I undressed, however, and sat in pyjamas as I smoked 
a final pipe. There was whisky, soda and a bowl of 
ice, and I took a peg. I felt singularly low and dis- 
pirited. It was, I supposed, the inevitable reaction of 
the nerves after all I had endured, combined with the 
heavy pressure of the atmosphere and the electric ten- 
sion of the storm. At any rate, I remember feeling — 
as everyone does at times — that the greatest triumphs 
and successes were worth very little, after all, when 
once they were achieved. There is bitterness at the 
bottom of every cup — surgit amari aliquid — and life 
was a poor thing at best. And I fell to reflecting on 
the evil and misery that can be wrought by one man. 

The gaunt specter of Hawk Helzephron haunted my 
mind, and the long row of dead men that must be 
laid to his account, the brave fellows of my own ser- 
vice, the Transatlantic people — to say nothing of the 
black scoundrels that he had made and tempted, who 
had been hurried into eternity with their crimes un- 
repented. . . . 

It was a morbid train of thought, but I was worn 
out, and the dark hour had its way with me, until I 
thought of Connie and her merciful preservation from 
harm, my own rescue. Then, rather ashamed of my- 
self, I made an effort to banish these gloomy imagin- 
ings, said my prayers, and got into bed. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


263 

All the same, as I fell asleep, the stammer of the 
approaching thunder and the white glare of lightning, 
which now and then flashed into the darkened room, 
seemed like the growling of those awful dogs and the 
glare of the advancing airship in the cave. . . . 

I think now that I must have had some unconscious 
premonition of the tragedy which was racing towards 
me all the time. 

... I was awakened sharply and suddenly, at first 
I thought by a flash of lightning. But it was not so. 
The electrics had been suddenly turned on, and there 
were men in uniform round my bed. The wind had 
risen and was whistling outside. A deluge of thunder 
rain was in progress, and great sheets of water were 
flung against the window. 

I saw Superintendent Johnson. His face was white 
as linen. 

“What is it?” I shouted. 

He shouted in answer, and I heard his voice above 
the tumult of the storm. 

“The prisoners, Sir John,” he wailed. “They’ve 
got away. They picked the lock of the cell somehow, 
got into the passage, and broke the bars of the window 
at the end. We none of us heard a sound!” 

I leapt out of bed and began to bellow orders for 
pursuit — until I saw Johnson’s terrified face again, and 
knew that I had not heard all. 

“ . . They got down to the water somehow, sir. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


264 

They must have climbed down the lift rails. And they 
swam to the ship. . . .” 

“Good God! What ship?” 

“Their own ship, Sir John. Somehow or other they 
managed to get on board; we’ve just heard. . . 

“ Where are they?” 

“They did for the two men on board, and must 
have managed to start the engines — the ship's gone . 
The searchlights are all over the pool, and there’s no 
trace of her. They were seen, Sir John, I . . 

He broke off short, the words drying up in his 
mouth. All the other men shrank together in a fright- 
ened group as Danjuro came slowly into the room. 

I have never seen a figure so awe-inspiring, or 
terrible. 

In moments of supreme emotion a European grows 
chalk-white, an Asiatic gray. 

The Japanese was livid gray now, and his face 
seemed carved with fantastic gashes — gray rubber 
slashed with a knife. He was like a man who had 
slept a thousand years and wakened to find himself 
old, and in hell. 

He came slowly up to me, moving like a thing on 
wheels drawn by a cord, and when he was close, he 
spoke. 

I can never recall his voice without an almost physi- 
cal state of fear. Suppose that you could go with 
Dante to that gate over which is written, “ Abandon 


THE AIR PIRATE 


265 


hope all ye who enter here.” And suppose, as you 
stood there and listened, you heard a well-known voice 
far down, saying, “I am tormented in this flame. . . 

Well, Danjuro’s voice was like that. 

“During a lull in the storm, : ” he said, as if repeat- 
ing a lesson, “I went up on the deck of the May Flower 
for a breath of air. Mr. Van Adams accompanied me. 
We were looking over the water to the Pirate Ship, 
when I saw lights flashing up and down through the 
portholes of the fuselage. It struck me as strange. 
We wondered what the two men in charge could be 
doing. As we watched, we were just able to distin- 
guish two men coming up on deck. Then there came 
a vivid flash of lightning, and I saw everything plainly. 
The two men were Vargus and Gascoigne, and they 
were carrying the body of a man in uniform, which 
they lowered into the water.” 

Inspector Johnson gave a quick gasp. Danjuro con- 
tinued : 

“Without a moment’s delay I got a couple of pistols, 
and Mr. Van Adams and I jumped into the electric 
launch, which was moored alongside the May Flower , 
though on the other side to that which faced the Pirate. 
There was no time to summon help. We shot out into 
the pool just as the storm began again with thunder- 
claps and a deluge of water. We were within a fevf 
yards of the ship and making ready to board her, when 
Mr. Van Adams flashed a powerful electric torch, and 


266 


THE AIR PIRATE 


I saw Vargus with a knife in his hand hacking at the 
mooring ropes. At the same time I noticed that the 
lights in the pilot’s cabin had been turned on. 

"I took a snap-shot at Vargus and missed him. Al- 
most simultaneously he fired directly at the light of 
the torch which Mr. Van Adams held. The bullet 
went through Mr. Van Adams’ heart, and he fell back 
dead in my arms — I was steering the launch. I fired 
off all the cartridges in my pistol, but the thunder 
drowned the noise. The Pirate Ship began to move. 
I saw the lights in her side moving along — and then 
she lifted and disappeared.” 

The awful voice ceased, and all of us in that room 
stood like waxen figures in a show. 

For three days the Press and public were kept in 
entire ignorance of what had happened during the 
storm. 

Upon the fourth, just as I was beginning to think 
that all my measures were in vain and that the Pirate 
Ship had vanished utterly, the Head Office in Whitehall 
received two long telegrams from the Prefect of 
Finistere in France and the Chief of Police of 
Quimper, the old cathedral city in Brittany. 

On one of the wild and lonely Breton moors a goat- 
herd had discovered the wreckage of a large airship. 
By it was the body of a young man, but only one body. 
The telegrams urgently asked me to come over at once. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


267 


I did so, in my fastest patrol boat. Lying in a wild 
wilderness of gorse and heather were the remains of 
the Pirate Ship. It had been destroyed beyond pos- 
sibility of reconstruction, and destroyed methodically 
and deliberately while at rest upon the ground. There 
was no doubt about that. The body I afterwards saw 
in the Morgue at Quimper was that of Gascoigne. He 
had not met his death by any accidental means, but 
had been stabbed in the back. 

He must have been dead for quite two days before 
the goat-herd made his discovery, and of Vargus, liv- 
ing or dead, there was not a trace. 

I was back in London again that night, and just as 
I was going to bed in Half Moon Street the bell of the 
flat rang. Thumbwood went to the door and an- 
nounced that Mr. Danjuro wished to see me. 

He was in evening dress, and quite his old self again 
to outward appearances, except that his black hair had 
turned an iron gray. 

For a moment or two we discussed details of the 
inquest that had been held in camera upon poor Van 
Adams, arrangements made for the trial of the three 
surviving pirates, and so on. Then I told him what I 
had seen at Quimper. 

“Mr. Muir Lockhart told me of the telegrams from 
France,” he said. “I called at Whitehall, but you had 
already started for Quimper, Sir John. I must apolo- 


268 


THE AIR PIRATE 


gize for such a late call, but I was anxious to hear 
your news. Now I see my way clear.” 

“I suppose, after your great loss, you will go back 
to America, or perhaps Japan, and settle down?” 

He shook his head. 

“You know,” I continued, “that if you cared for it, 
there is a highly-paid and important position open to 
you with the Air Police? Nothing would give me 
greater pleasure, as you know, than to have you as a 
colleague.” 

“I thank you, Sir John, but I have other work to do. 
I am a rich man, but that only interests me, inasmuch 
as it is a means to an end. When that end is 
reached ...” 

He made a curious gesture with his arm, which I 
did not understand. 

“May I ask what your work is?” 

He looked at me with surprise. 

“Vargus is still alive,” he said simply. 

“He will be caught soon. The police of the world 
are looking for him, if he is alive.” 

“I think it will be a long pursuit, Sir John. He 
has got off with the treasure, and I know one or two 
things about him which are not generally known. I 
do not think that Mr. Vargus will fall into the hands 
of the police.” 

“Then you . . . ?” 

“It is my work. I owe the spirit of my patron this 


THE AIR PIRATE 


269 


man’s blood, and I shall pay the debt. Were he to 
hide in the depths of the sea, sooner or later I shall find 
him. There is no power strong enough in life to keep 
us two apart.” 

He had dropped his voice. The words hissed like a 
knife upon a strop. 

“I wish you good luck,” I said at length, and was 
about to say more, to express my gratitude again, 
when he cut me short. 

“I am leaving for Paris in half an hour,” he said, 
“and must bid you farewell, Sir John. Convey my 
humble compliments to Miss Shepherd,” and with a 
low bow and a frigid handshake he was gone. 

Six weeks afterwards, on the day before my wed- 
ding, I received a magnificent Japanese vase of the old 
Satsuma enamel, but the card enclosed bore no address. 

I did not see this extraordinary being again for 
nearly two years. Of that meeting I shall write in the 
following short epilogue. 


EPILOGUE 


I N the winter of 19 — I was at Monte Carlo for 
three weeks, taking a short holiday alone, and also 
looking out for a villa at Roquebrune or Mentone for 
my wife, who was to come out with the baby as soon 
as the house had been secured. 

Now and again I went into the “Rooms” and staked 
a louis or two upon an even chance or a transversale 
at roulette; but, speaking generally, the Casino bored 
me. The cosmopolitan crowd of smart people — like 
champagne corks floating on a cesspool — the profes- 
sional gamblers, with their veil of decorous indifference 
concealing a fierce greed for money which they have 
not earned — a sprinkling of wood-ash over a glowing 
fire — presented little interest, and I much preferred 
long walks and drives in the earthly paradise of Les 
Alpes Maritimes. 

I stayed at the Metropole Hotel, making it the base 
of my excursions, and one evening, after dinner, I paid 
one of my rare visits to the Casino. I wandered about 
the gilded, stuffy saloons, with their illuminations of 
oil-lamps — so that no enterprising gentleman may cut 
270 


THE AIR PIRATE 


271 


the electric wires and make off with the money on the 
tables ! — the low voices and almost sanctimonious 
manner of the players, the over-dressed demi-mon- 
daines who glide about with their hard, evil eyes. The 
place was very full. All the chairs round the roulette 
tables were occupied, and people were standing be- 
hind the chairs as well. As I am tall, I was able to 
reach over and place my stakes, and I did so several 
times. When I had lost four louis with monotonous 
regularity, I decided that it was not worth while, and 
thought I would go and smoke, for, contrary to the 
usual pictures in the magazines, smoking is not allowed 
in the roulette or trente-et-quarante rooms. 

So I went out into the Atrium, the great pillared en- 
trance hall, which looks like an important provincial 
corn exchange, and lit a cigarette. The place was 
fairly full of people, walking up and down, or read- 
ing the latest telegrams, which are fixed up upon a 
green-baize screen, and I was watching them idly when, 
coming round the corner from the cloak-room, I saw 
— Danjuro! 

My heart gave a sudden leap, the sight of him was 
so utterly unexpected and recalled so much. To tell 
the truth, he seemed to belong to a long past and for- 
gotten dream, for Connie and I, by mutual consent, 
hardly ever spoke of the days of the pirates. 

Danjuro was about fifteen yards away. I saw his 
face distinctly, and was certain that I was not mis- 


THE AER PIRATE 


n% 

taken. Then he looked up, and I could swear that 
he saw and recognized me. 

Be that as it may, he turned and slipped round the 
corner like a weasel, and when I got there he had 
vanished. I made a search, of course, though I knew 
how futile it would be if he wished to avoid me, and 
the result was as I expected. There wasn’t a trace of 
him anywhere, and none of the attendants or door- 
keepers had seen a Japanese gentleman anywhere. 

I went for a walk on the terrace in the moonlight, 
and then returned to the hotel and sought my bed. For 
a long time I could not sleep. The sight of Danjuro 
had made me restless. A legion of memories trooped 
through the brain, and curiosity marshaled the pro- 
cession. What was that enigmatic and sinister being 
doing here? Was he still upon his ruthless quest, 
moving through the panorama of European life like 
some wandering Jew of vengeance ? Nothing had ever 
been heard of Vargus again. For my part, I shared 
the opinion of the police bureaux of the Continent, 
that the soft-voiced and malignant scoundrel was 
dead. 

It was pathetic to think of Danjuro prowling 
through life to avenge his patron, wasting his mag- 
nificent powers upon a hopeless quest. Pathetic, yes 
— so ran my thoughts — but one can’t think of Danjuro 
as an ordinary human being. He was simply a single 
idea, clothed in flesh, a marvelous machine designed 


THE AIR PIRATE 


273 


for one operation only, a specialist so perfect that he 
became a monomaniac. 

Poor Van Adams, to protect and serve him had been 
Danjuro’s whole life. Every faculty of mind and 
body had been devoted to that one end. And yet he 
must have loved the American to have served him so ? 
And if he could love he was human! 

I wrestled with the problem till dawn, and got no 
nearer a solution. I knew that, despite our companion- 
ship in peril and the extraordinary adventures we had 
gone through together, if Van Adams had lived and 
for any reason had told Danjuro to put me out of the 
way, the little man would have executed the job with 
neatness, dispatch, and an entire absence of compunc- 
tion. 

I decided that Danjuro, as a subject of psychological 
analysis, was quite beyond me, and did my best to 
forget the incident. With an effort I managed to do 
so, and got a few hours’ sleep before Thumb wood 
called me. I said nothing to him of having seen Dan- 
juro, for he also is unwilling to talk much of the days 
of terror — perhaps because his wife, Wilson, that was, 
and is still, Connie’s handmaid — so strenuously ob- 
jects to it. 

About half-past eleven I left the hotel and strolled 
to the foot of the funicular railway which hauls one 
up from the narrow ledge of land on which Monte 
Carlo stands to the heights of La Turbie. I designed 


274 


THE AIR PIRATE 


to lunch at the excellent hotel at the top in the clear 
mountain air, and then to walk along the Upper Cor- 
niche towards Roquebrune, Eze, and the mountains 
above Mentone. There is much to explore in these 
high regions — ruins of Roman and medieval forts, 
built as a defense against the raiding Moors of the 
Mediterranean, and here and there delightful villas 
among pine- woods and olive groves, far from the 
haunts of men. 

It was a house of this description, a mountain her- 
mitage, that I wished to find and take for six months. 
I knew that they were occasionally to be let, but some- 
what difficult to come across upon the books of the 
agents. In Monte Carlo I had been assured that per- 
sonal exploration was the best and quickest way. 

I lunched at La Turbie on a magnificent bouillabaisse 
and riz-de-veau , and after an interval set out upon my 
walk. It was a magnificent afternoon, the air golden 
clear. Far away out to sea Corsica lay like a dim 
cloud. The mountain side fell in terrace after terrace 
of olives to groups of painted houses looking like toys. 
Away to the right were the red roofs and gleaming 
white buildings of the Monte Carlo palaces, and the 
promontory of the Tete du Chien was perfectly out- 
lined in the azure of the sea. 

“Yes,” I thought, “upon this great height is the 
place to live when one comes to the Cote d’Azur, and 
I won’t go home to-night until I have found some- 


THE AIR PIRATE 


275 


thing. . . And I began to climb by a by-path. 

The afternoon was hot. After a mile or two I 
rested in the shade of a great rock and fell asleep. 
When I awoke the sun, which sets early in winter, 
even on the Riviera, was declining. I was not quite 
sure of my direction, but thought that I could make 
Roquebrune by an oblique path over the spur of the 
mountain, and from there easily descend to Cap Mar- 
tin and get a carriage, and take the tram which crawls 
along the cliff to Monte Carlo. So I set out. 

The path, however, did not prove to be the right 
one, and it was twilight, or that extremely short in- 
terval which does duty for it in the south, before I 
came to three or four stone huts fronting a plateau 
with an enclosure full of goats. I explained my pre- 
dicament to a swarthy woman who sat knitting at a 
door, and she gave me directions. She also said, in 
mingled French and Italian, for the frontier was not 
five miles away, that there would be a small empty 
villa to be let a mile onwards — at least, she believed so. 

“Can you tell me the name of the owner, madame?” 
I asked. 

“But, no, m’sieu. It is a new gentleman. He has 
bought the villa and the larger one, which is close to 
it but higher up the hill. He is a scholar of some sort, 
and lives quite alone, so he cannot want the smaller 
house on the road. It was, moreover, always let in 
the time of the last owner, M. Visguis, of Nice.” 


27 6 


THE AIR PIRATE 


I thanked the good dame, refused a cup of goats' 
milk, gave her a five-franc piece and started on my 
way again rejoicing. My luck was in. This mountain 
chalet would be just the thing, and I made up my mind 
to interview the recluse on my way home. 

The sun sank, and night came up with a rush out of 
the Mediterranean. Everything was dead still. There 
are no birds in these solitudes, and the hum of day in- 
sects was over. Although the moon rose almost at 
once and gave sufficient light to steer by, the place was 
eerie. Immense rocks threw ashen shadows. The 
stone pines stood like silent sentinels, and the huge 
coronet of jewels — topaz against black velvet — that 
was Monte Carlo seemed a hundred miles away. 

Following my directions, I came at length to the 
garden wall of a fairly large villa, painted all along the 
sides, with gigantic and melancholy trees, and the 
moonlight shed a ghostly radiance upon it. This, I 
knew, was the house in occupation. The one that 
might be let was lower down the slope and on the 
other side of the road — to my right. I could just see 
the roof of it as I peered over the parapet. 

Pushing open a wooden gate, I went up the garden 
path towards the Villa Turquoise — that I had discov- 
ered was its name. Tree frogs were croaking round 
the house, but as it was winter, there were no friendly 
fireflies ; once or twice the fans of a palm clicked with 
a dry, rustling noise. 


THE AIR PIRATE 


m 

It was difficult to find the door as I came up to the 
villa, but after a moment, I saw a broad band of yel- 
low light coming from the side, and turned towards it. 
I walked upon the turf of a little lawn, and threaded 
my way between orange and pepper trees, with here 
and there a bush of Cape gooseberries. 

And up to that moment I never had a suspicion or 
a qualm. Indeed, I felt at peace with myself and all 
the world, washed and purified by the sweet Alpine air 
and all the loveliness my eyes had looked upon that 
day. Then I heard, clear, strong and sudden, a chord 
of music on a piano. 

I stopped dead still. 

Again that crash of sound, and then a smooth and 
mellow arpeggio, as masterly fingers ran up and down 
the keys of a magnificent instrument. 

I grew cold, suddenly and horribly cold. 

I could see nothing but a long French window glow- 
ing orange with light in the dark side of the house. I 
had heard nothing but some chords upon a grand 
piano. 

But in that moment, though subconsciously, I knew . 

I moved forward in little automatic jerks, listening 
with a dreadful fear, a sick certainty. The second 
before I came to the window and looked inside, it be- 
/ gan. 

Played by a master hand, I heard the opening notes 
of the Third Ballade of Chopin. . . . 


278 


THE AIR PIRATE 


Another step, and, in the darkness myself, I could 
see into the room. 

The musician was Mr. Vargus. 

He had grown a little mustache, which was waxed 
at the ends, and a small black imperial on his chin. He 
was also much fatter than when I had seen him last, 
and he wore a smoking jacket of purple velvet. On 
one finger was a diamond ring, which flashed in the 
lamplight as the firm, powerful hands rose and fell. 

There was a soft smile in the sly eyes as he inter- 
preted the beautiful, fantastic music. 

I am going to tell you what happened without com- 
ment or any reference whatever to my own feelings. 

The melody progressed to that marvelous passage 
which Beardsley saw in line as a white horse ambling 
through a dark wood of pines, ridden by a lady in a 
dress of black velvet. 

At the opening chords of the theme a door behind 
the player opened quietly. He heard nothing. 

An awful and august figure entered. 

It was Danjuro, but not the Danjuro I had ever 
known. 

He wore a robe of yellow silk with wide kimono 
sleeves, and a sash of purple round his waist. Into 
the sash was thrust the long scabbard of an ancient 
Japanese sword — a scabbard of tortoise-shell and sil- 
ver. His hair was differently arranged, his lips com- 
pressed into a single line. The eyes, which seemed 


THE AIR PIRATE 279 

curiously elongated, glittered like black lacquer in a 
high light. 

He crept forward and touched Vargus on the shoul- 
der. 

The man in the velvet coat leapt up with a short, 
sharp cry. Then he whipped round and came face to 
face with Danjuro. 

They remained, staring into each other’s eyes for 
several seconds. 

I saw a ghostly change beginning in the pirate’s face. 
Inch by inch something crept over it like a veil as life 
ebbed away. Then he fell in a crumpled heap upon 
the carpet. 

The Japanese looked down at him without a change 
in his dreadful stony glare. Then he bent down and 
pulled the limp form out straight, turning it with its 
face downwards. He drew the sword and lifted it 
high above his head. 

As it gleamed I shut my eyes. . . . 

When I looked again, sick with the sickness of 
death itself, the figure in the yellow robe had raised 
both arms above its head. The sleeves had slipped 
away and the coils of muscle stood out upon the brown 
flesh. 

Danjuro’s lips were parted. He seemed to be speak- 
ing rapidly to something above him. His whole face 
was irradiated with joy, and the sword in his right 
hand shone like a tall flame. 


280 


THE AIR PIRATE 


He remained there for some little time. Then he 
lowered his arms, and taking a square of purple silk 
from his breast, he cleansed the sword, and I knew 
what he was going to do. 

He placed the jeweled hilt upon the carpet and ad- 
justed the point at his waist, steadying the blade with 
his left hand. Then, with a loud cry, as if of exalta- 
tion, he fell heavily forward. . . . 

He had gone to his own place in the way appointed 
to the Heroes of Old Japan. 


THE END 


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